


The Torchwood Murders

by MiladyDragon



Series: Dragon-Verse Series One [9]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Dragon-Verse, F/M, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyDragon/pseuds/MiladyDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team is called in to investigate a murder where Torchwood has been implicated.  Can they follow the trail and find the killer before there's a next murder?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Torchwood Murders

_**24 November 2007** _

 

_**  
** _

Jack parked the SUV with his usual reckless abandon, and it was only due to years of practice that Ianto didn't grab onto the stabilization handle – or the 'Jesus Fucking Christ, Harkness!' handle, as Owen was fond of calling it – to keep from having the seatbelt choke him to death as he was thrown forward. It was a sheer miracle that Jack had managed to avoid the various pandas and other official vehicles that were parked outside the rather nondescript house that was the address Detective Inspector Swanson had given him when she'd called to report an incident that might be Torchwood-related.

Ianto unhooked his belt then left the SUV just after Jack, and he knew Owen was just behind them. Toshiko had also come, but she was staying in the SUV, in order to run various scans and searches on the scant information the DI had given him during their short phone conversation. Gwen was back at the Hub, doing a bit of training on monitoring the team while they were onsite, even though she'd been miffed about being left behind.

Swanson had sounded strained; and as Ianto approached her he could see that she looked about the same as she'd sounded. There were tight lines around her eyes, and her back was so straight Ianto had to wonder if it hurt to stand like that. She crosser her arms as they approached, tucking a file folder under her elbow to hold it in place.

"At last," she snapped. "You took your time."

Jack gave her a flirtatious grin. "I'm sure it was worth your wait, Detective Swanson."

Swanson rolled her eyes. "Jones, can't you control him?"

"What have we got?" Ianto asked, in order to avoid actually answering that question.

"Three victims, although the first was yesterday," Swanson reported, opening the folder that she'd been holding. "That one was Alex Arwyn, murdered at his home on Oakham Street. He was twenty-eight, single, a real estate agent." She passed the folder to Ianto, and both Jack and Owen crowded in to see it as well.

The photos were gruesome. Blood was everywhere, and the victim lay in a large pool of it. It looked as if he'd been butchered.

"Today, we get two more," Swanson went on. "Mark and Sara Briscoe, both thirty-three, married. He's a surveyor and she works in education."

"What's that on the wall over the body?" Jack asked, taking one of the photographs, in order to get a closer look. "Is that some sort of writing?"

He gave the photo back to Ianto, who squinted at the area Jack had indicated. Yes, it did look like someone had tried to write something, and the dragon wondered why the killer hadn't finished whatever it was. He certainly doubted it had been the victim, that poor soul would have been too badly injured to try anything, even if he'd still been alive at the time.

"Work in progress," Swanson answered. "Come on in and see the finished thing."

The detective led the way into the house, past several other coppers and SOCO as they worked to gather evidence. The interior was nicely decorated, and Ianto appreciated the taste of whomever it had been who'd purchased the furniture. The lounge was neat, he noticed as they passed through toward the hallway leading into the rear of the home.

He could smell the coppery tang of blood as they approached the crime scene. It was thick in the air, like a fog over everything. Ianto could tell that Jack could smell it as well; the man's 51st century senses were a bit stronger than the humans of this time, but not as strong as Ianto's own, even in his ephemeral form. He swallowed to keep from gagging on it.

Swanson must have noticed; she gave him a tiny, sympathetic smile.

The bedroom was a disaster. The place had been trashed, even as the owners lay on the bed, deep rusty blood staining the sheets. It was obvious that the victims' throats had been cut, and that they had bled out. Various crime scene techs were about, gathering more of what might be evidence and taking pictures of the pair of corpses.

But it was the wall that drew Ianto's attention.

Written in great swaths of blood across what had once been off-white paint was the word, 'Torchwood'.

"Shit," Owen swore. Ianto agreed with him,

"Looks like someone's trying to get your attention," Swanson said.

"They've got it," Jack growled. The expression on his face meant trouble for whoever had done this.

Owen passed out gloves, and Ianto put his pair on. He couldn't help but stare at the two bodies, wondering if they'd been somehow killed because of something Torchwood was involved in, or if they'd just been unlucky enough to be chosen as victims for a random murderer. Either way, it made his blood boil. He couldn't understand the need for certain humans – and various aliens – to deliberately murder others. Of course he understood killing in war, or for vengeance, but this…no, he didn't think he'd ever quite get it.

"We found a few of what we think are the killer's hairs at the scene of yesterday's murder," Swanson went on. "The results should be in soon."

"Good," Jack answered. "We'll need those. Ianto, could you and Detective Swanson clear the room? Some of our equipment is strictly need to know."

The dragon was glad Jack had asked him, because the blood smell was starting to get to him. He didn't usually have a weak stomach; after all, he did all the clean-up for Torchwood operations, and he'd dealt with things that would make the most experienced SOCO sick. But there was something about this particular scene that disturbed him, and he keenly felt the urge to leave.

Swanson sighed, and turned toward the door. "Okay, everyone out," she called to her people. Then she looked back toward Jack. "It was only a matter of time."

Jack looked back at her. "What was?" he asked, his eyes angry.

Swanson must have seen the expression, because she took a step back. But her own features didn't change; they were nearly as angry as Jack's were. "Torchwood walks all over this city," she answered. "It's like you think you own it. Now these people have paid the price for it. From where I'm standing, you did this, Captain. You did this."

With those words, she left the room behind her investigators, leaving the three with the two dead people.

Jack sighed. "Sometimes I wish they'd just get why I act the way I do…go with her, Ianto. I wouldn't even try to spin this in a good way."

"Still," Owen said, opening his equipment case, "at least we've got a head start. If it's someone we've pissed off, that narrows it down to…oh, about four or five million."

"And that's just the humans," Jack added. He activated his comm. "Tosh, how are we doing?"

Ianto activated his own comm. in order to hear Toshiko's report, as he left Jack and Owen to it. He could understand Swanson's frustration; he felt it sometimes as well. Jack was always running over people in the name of Torchwood business, and Ianto had often warned him that his attitude could backfire. Jack seemed determined to get on the bad side of just about anyone in authority. The dragon had tried to get him to change his ways, but nothing worked. Ianto chalked it up to Jack's tiny streak of megalomania. And yes, Jack Harkness did have one, as much as the immortal wanted to deny it.

But he also knew that Jack did some of what he did to protect innocents. Ianto didn't agree with how he did it, and it often took a lot of soothing of ruffled feathers to get people back on speaking terms with them, but Ianto did it because it was necessary.

" _I've checked our mainframe,"_ Toshiko said, her voice soft in Ianto's ear as the dragon left the house. _"None of the victims are in it. I'm about to widen the search…wait, they have lab results."_

"I've got it," Ianto said, approaching Swanson as she was handed a file. "Detective?" he said, not wanting to startle her.

"Jones," she acknowledged his presence. "Good timing, just got the test results on those hairs." She flipped the file open. "DNA is male, and doesn't match anything we have on our databases. I'm sure though you have more resources than we do." She favored Ianto with a knowing look, and the dragon didn't dissuade her. He could hear Toshiko in his ear, saying she would run the results through other criminal records. "Hm…looks like there's some interesting chemical traces from the hair itself. Some sort of unknown substance. Maybe a new type of designer drug?"

Ianto looked at the results. Something in the back of his mind niggled at him; he was certain he knew what that formula was.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, Toshiko piped up on the comms. _"It's Retcon,"_ she proclaimed. _"Whoever murdered those people had been given Retcon sometime in the near past, if these results are correct."_

" _How close, Tosh?"_ Jack demanded.

" _Just a second…okay, judging from what I can find out about the length of the hair found, it would have had to have been within the last five months, give or take a month."_

Ianto cursed silently, as both Jack and Owen did the same verbally. _"Retcon can show up in hair long after it's been given,"_ Owen explained. _"Kinda like arsenic or other types of drugs."_

" _Why would the killer have been given Retcon?"_ Gwen's voice piped up. Ianto had almost forgotten she'd have been listening in.

" _That's what we need to find out,"_ Jack said. _"Ianto, I'll want a full inventory of all Retcon supplies when we get back to the Hub. It might be too late to trace, but we can try. We'll also need lists of everyone given Retcon in that time period."_

Ianto didn't answer; he didn't want Swanson knowing what was going on behind the scenes. Instead, he said, "We have more sensitive equipment; we can do a more detailed analysis. If it is something like that, we'll let you know."

Swanson nodded. "Thanks. We'll need to know if there's some sort of new drug out on the market. Just one more thing we need: a new substance to add to the repertoire." She sighed. "Look, Jones…you know how I feel about Torchwood. Hell, I've ranted to you about it enough times. I think you all are far too secretive for your own good, and Himself lets the power go to his head." Ianto knew she was talking about Jack, and he nodded slightly in response. "I also know Torchwood's been around Cardiff for at least a century, and that you handle all the weird shit that goes on. But I swear, if you lot had anything to do with the murders of those three people, I'll make it my life's work to take you down. I won't let anything stop me, including our friendship. Is that understood?"

"Completely, Detective." This was but one of the reasons Ianto respected her so highly; Kathy Swanson had a sense of justice that wouldn't let her quit, not matter the hurdles she had to face. It was so different from Gwen's stubborn streak, in that what Swanson did was for the best of everyone involved, while Gwen only seemed to think of what was good for herself. "And if it's someone just trying to drag us in where we wouldn't normally belong?"

"Then I'll have your backs. Honestly? I don't see yourself getting into something so sordid as murder. I don't think Himself would get his hands dirty like that, either."

She obviously didn't know Jack all that well, if she didn't think he'd get his hands dirty, but Ianto did know that the captain wouldn't commit cold-blooded murder. Execution…yes. Murder…no.

And Ianto knew very well what the difference between the two was, from his own personal experience.

The problem was, this was looking more and more like a Torchwood issue, even discounting the writing on the bedroom wall. With Retcon involved in some way, this investigation could become very nasty. If it was just there by coincidence, then things would be fine. But, if not…well, the dragon had been around far too long to believe in coincidence.

Neither had Jack. That he was certain about.

 

* * *

 

_**24 November 2007** _

_**  
** _

 

"So," Gwen said, "this killer is someone we gave Retcon to?"

They were all sat around the boardroom table, notes on the murders spread around on the tabletop and displayed on the large plasma attached to the wall for everyone to read. Jack leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of coffee and barely refraining to make his usual orgasm-like moan at the flavor. Ianto just made the best coffee…

"Question is," Owen replied, twirling a pen in his fingers, "is he remembering he's a serial killer? Or is he becoming a serial killer because of the Retcon?"

"Wait a minute," Gwen said, "I've been given Retcon." She glared at Jack, who simply shrugged.

"Then better stay away from sharp objects," Jack deadpanned. He turned to his Second. "Ianto, how many people have we given Retcon to?"

The dragon considered. "Two thousand and eight," he answered. "But that doesn't include any unrecorded dosages, and only after we took over." He sat forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. "The problem is, that while record-keeping has gotten somewhat better, we just have no way of knowing how many we've actually given Retcon to. Each of us knows how to use it – with the exception of Gwen, who hasn't been trained with that yet – but there's still going to be times when we're out and run into problems that need Retcon given at any one time. I myself always carry one bottle with me, and I know Jack does as well. Unfortunately I sometimes haven't taken the time to get names and numbers of those I've had to use it on, at the spur of the moment."

Jack nodded. "Ianto has a point," he said. "We don't always have the time or inclination to get the information we need when using Retcon out in the field. For all we know, our killer could have been a random witness to a Weevil attack and we dosed him without even figuring out who he is. I know I'm bad at that."

"You are," Ianto agreed, a slight smile on his face. "You didn't even record giving it to Gwen after she found out about Torchwood. The only reason it was written down was because I knew you were going to do it."

"Oops," Jack answered sheepishly.

"So, we potentially have thousands of people out there who've been given Retcon," Owen clarified.

"That's about the size of it."

"Hey, what if they all become psychotic?"

"Do you have to sound so happy about it?" Toshiko asked sharply.

"I'm just saying." Owen retorted. "Mean Streets!"

"Look," Jack interrupted, before the conversation could get out of hand," Retcon has been thoroughly tested, and no one has ever gone insane and killed people after they'd been given it." He didn't want to go into any details about the actual testing; he was certain no one really wanted to know about Torchwood One's methods.

"I've taken a look at the hair itself," Owen said, leaning forward to pick up one of his notes. "Tosh was pretty accurate about the time of last dosage."

"How can you tell that from a hair?" Gwen wanted to know.

"Retcon stays in your system," Jack answered her. "It leaves traces that can show up in hair."

"Yeah," the medic added. "Kinda like when they give you a drug test, and they use a hair sample to determine if you've used in the last several months. You can pass a piss test pretty easily, but unless you got a haircut after you used last time, it's gonna show up."

Gwen reached up, as if to check her own hair, but let her hand fall.

"Was there anything else you could get from the hair?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. Judging from the amount of Retcon in the hair itself, I'd say whoever doped him did it over a length of time. Course, telling how long can't be done because of the shortness of the hair, but there was quite a build-up."

The room was silent, and in Jack's case it was from shock. Who would do such a thing? What would be the point? It was just another mystery, and they'd have to solve it as well. There was no way he was going to accept anyone continually dosing someone with Retcon. Certainly, One had done significant testing but there was nothing that he could remember in the notes that said they'd checked for long-term effects of overdosing. "We need to find out if there's some sort of connection between the three victims," Jack ordered. "If we can find that, then maybe we can find the killer."

"Jack?" Gwen put in, "If there's a link, why don't we ask the victims themselves?"

The captain looked at her sharply. Certainly she wasn't suggesting… "Not the time for a séance, thanks very much."

She shook her head. "The first time I met Torchwood, you had that glove…"

Hell, she _was_.

"No way," Jack answered.

"Not after what it did to Suzie," Owen added.

"It brings people back to life," Gwen went on stubbornly. "We could question the murder victims."

"That thing drove her crazy," the medic added. "It as good as killed her."

"The glove stays in the Secure Archives where it belongs," Jack ordered.

Gwen stood, leaning across the table, a belligerent look on her face. "These murders are happening because of Torchwood! So, Torchwood has to do something!"

Jack couldn't believe this. He'd already told her that the glove would not be used, and she was still arguing about it. Her stubbornness might have been a good trait to have in an investigation, but having it aimed in his direction pissed him off.

Before he could answer, Ianto stepped in.

"Jack said no, Gwen," the dragon snapped. "We're not using the glove."

"But Torchwood is at fault – "

"And how do you assume that? Yes, there is evidence that Torchwood is being drawn into this, but we don't know if we're at fault at all. You can't make assumptions without all the facts."

"Ianto is right," Toshiko said. "I won't go anywhere near that thing."

"Neither will I." Owen threw his pen down with a clatter. "That glove made Suzie bat shit nuts. No way do I want another teammate topping themselves or someone else because of it."

Jack looked at his team, and it really struck him just how they were divided up: his old team, against Gwen, the new person. Even Owen, who was obviously shagging her, was against her, at least in this instance. He wondered if this division would ever completely heal, or was it too late for Gwen to integrate into the team.

He'd been so sure that Gwen had had something that the team would need; that spark of humanity that would remind them what they were fighting for. But, just from Ianto and Toshiko, he'd gotten a different glance at things. It wasn't that anyone in Torchwood wasn't human...only that it was a different kind of humanity, one born of loss and pain and having to fight for life and for the lives of everyone around them.

Gwen didn't have that. She hadn't suffered, and because of that she lacked understanding of the others and thought it was them being heartless and cruel. He remembered her arguing about letting Ianto just have bereavement time after Lisa. She could only see the danger that Ianto had seemingly put them into, and not the absolute loneliness and loss that the dragon had suffered, and why he'd fought for the female dragon instead of letting anyone know she existed. And why, in the end, he'd killed her rather than let the poor thing get away to wreak havoc on the ephemeral world.

She couldn't sympathize with any of them, simply because she had no frame of reference to do so. What made it worse was that Gwen didn't seem inclined to even try.

Now, Gwen was trying to once again force her own morality on a situation, wanting to use something that would only damage someone further. Jack felt like he'd failed Suzie…just as he'd failed Ianto, and in other ways Owen and Toshiko. It had been a mistake to let her experiment with the glove, and he should have taken it away the moment he'd felt something was wrong. And Ianto had warned him; the dragon had said he sensed that the glove was nothing good, and that all it would do was corrupt an already dark Suzie.

But then, Jack didn't really trust the dragon's extra senses. He was learning, though, it was just taking him nearly losing people for him to get the hint.

"We aren't using the glove," Jack said. "This is my final word on the subject. " Gwen opened her mouth to object, but he held up his hand to stop her. "Arguing about it isn't going to change my mind, Gwen. In fact, it's just going to piss me off."

"There are other avenues of investigation we can follow," Ianto added.

"Exactly," Jack nodded. "The coppers don't have the glove; how do they investigate murders?" He wanted to challenge her, to make her see that using the technology they had on hand wasn't always the best thing to do.

Gwen crossed her arms, her face a mask of anger. "But, if we have the means, we should use them."

He couldn't believe she was _still_ arguing with him! "You're not going to get your way, Ms Cooper," he ground out. "So you may as well give it up. Keep on the way you're going and you'll be written up for insubordination and suspended. Is that clear?"

"You can't do that. You need me!"

"You keep saying that," he sighed. "But it's not true. No one is above the team, and right now you're working against that team. We need to work together to find out who's killing these people, and why they want Torchwood involved." He stared right at her, and she met his gaze squarely. "You're either with the team, or against it. If you're against it, then there's no place for you here. I once threatened you with Retcon; that threat still stands. Do you understand me?"

He could swear he heard her teeth grinding from across the table. Jack honestly thought she was going to keep fighting him, but Gwen nodded once, sharply, as if against her will.

"Thank you." Jack turned his gaze to each of his other teammates. "Now, we need to get working if we're going to find this killer. Toshiko," he addressed his technician, "I want you to run backgrounds on all of our victims. Go back as far as you can, and dig as deep as you can. Property records, financials, surviving family…the whole lot. The smallest thing they have in common…I want to know. Give me your best work."

Toshiko nodded in acknowledgement.

"Owen," Jack went on, "you've got medical. I want full autopsies on all the victims, as well as any and all medical records you can dig up. If they happened to sneeze on each other in queue at the bank, I want to know about it."

"You got it," the medic said.

"Gwen." The ex-PC stiffened at his brusque tone, but Jack didn't care. "You handle witness statements, and whatever reports and evidence the local coppers have gathered. Also, Toshiko has shown you how to pull CCTV; I want you to find the closest cameras to the victims' homes and search for anyone in common showing up on the recordings. Anything that looks wrong, you tell me."

"And Ianto." The dragon looked at Jack, his blue eyes intense. "You get to tackle the lovely Detective Inspector Swanson. She's a good investigator and she has good instincts. Also, get access to the scenes of crime. I want you to take a look around, poke that snout of yours into any corners you can find. Anything out of the ordinary could be a clue."

Ianto looked bemused. "I'll be certain to tell her you said that about her."

Jack snorted. "Please, don't. She might think you're insane."

"We know you're already nuts, Dragon Boy," Owen snarked. "There's no need for outside corroboration."

"You're right, of course," the dragon said dryly. "The last thing I need is Detective Swanson calling those nice young men in the clean white coats to escort me to Providence Park."

"They might even bring a comfortable 'hug-me' jacket with them," Toshiko teased.

Jack let the fantasy of Ianto in a straitjacket float across his mind. "I didn't know you were into bondage, Ianto."

The dragon smirked. "Only for you, Jack," he purred.

_Well, shit_. His tone went right to a part of Jack's anatomy that it shouldn't, not in front of the rest of the team.

"TMI!" Owen exclaimed. "I'm going to spend some time with those nice quiet corpses in the autopsy bay." He made his way out of the boardroom, Toshiko behind him with a broad grin on her face.

Ianto left next, winking at Jack as he walked past the captain. Jack chuckled, shaking his head. Yes, things were definitely getting back to normal between them.

"Jack."

Gwen's voice pulled him from his perusal of Ianto's arse in those very well fitting suit trousers. Jack glanced up; Gwen stood in the same spot, looking a bit less angry than she had before.

"What is it, Gwen?"

"Well, I thought I was the police liaison. Why is Ianto dealing with Detective Swanson?"

"Ianto and I both feel you're not ready for that sort of responsibility," Jack answered honestly. "Besides, as I'm sure you're aware, Swanson and Ianto are friends. He's liable to get more cooperation out of her than you will. She respects him."

"And you're saying she doesn't respect me?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," he replied. "To her, you're an ex-PC and a rookie on this team. Ianto has been dealing with her and her superiors for years. You haven't earned their good will yet."

"And I never will, if you won't let me do the job you hired me for."

In a way, Gwen had a point. But…"Gwen, I've seen how you act at the few crime scenes you've liaised on, and you take more after me than you do Ianto. See, we have a police liaison because I'm a bastard who rolls over everyone. I need someone who can be conciliatory, and to cover my ass when I irritate people. And really…you're not it. Ianto is. Now, I gave you work to do, and I suggest you get to it. After all, you're the one who's so convinced these murders are Torchwood's fault that you're willing to use a dangerous piece of alien tech despite your teammates' warnings."

Jack watched as she practically flounced out of the boardroom. He shook his head, then left to do his own task: reading every bit of information Torchwood London had come up with on Retcon. And to do a check on the inventory they had.

He didn't want to think that one of his people were responsible, but if Owen and Toshiko's estimation on when their killer had had his last dose, there was only one person he could come up with who'd died in the period of time the Retcon had stopped being administered.

Suzie Costello.

 

* * *

 

_**24 November 2007** _

 

 

Ianto entered the headquarters of Cardiff CID, carrying a thermos and a box holding what he considered the best pastries in the city.

He greeted the copper on desk duty with a slight smile. "Is Detective Inspector Swanson in?" he asked politely.

"She is," the man answered, "if those pastries are for general consumption."

Ianto had learned one thing about dealing with the police: their love of sweets wasn't just something the telly made up. He always came prepared when visiting the police station. "They are, except for the almond crème, which is for the detective."

Once the pastries had been distributed, the dragon headed back toward Swanson's desk, which was crammed between a coat rack and the stationery cupboard. His quarry was seated there, looking up as he approached, her eyes on the wrapped pastry in his hand. "You know how to treat a lady, Jones," she quipped as he took the seat on the side of the desk next to the overflowing inbox.

Ianto handed it over. "I try, detective," he answered lightly, using his now free hand to open the thermos and root around the pile of files for the coffee mug he'd seen as he was sitting. He snagged it, made certain it was empty, then poured his own special brew into it. The woman practically made grabby hands for it.

Swanson sipped the coffee, and while her happy noises weren't nearly as orgasmic as Jack's often were, it was obvious that she was enjoying it immensely. "I don't know how you do it," she said. "No one makes coffee like you do."

"It's a gift."

"It is. And you usually bring it when you want something." She speared him with her dark, knowing eyes. "Someone should have told you that attempting to bribe a police officer was a crime."

Ianto met her gaze, quirking an eyebrow in her direction. "But I only come to the station when I want something, and I always bring coffee. So you can't really judge it on that."

Her eyes brightened. "Very true, Jones." She sat back in her chair, bringing her pastry with her. "I take it this has to do with those murders."

"It does." The problem was, her desk, while a bit isolated from the rest in the large room, was still public, and there were certain things he didn't want to risk getting out. While he trusted her, it was the rest of the constabulary he wasn't certain about.

Something of his thoughts must have shown in his face, because Swanson nodded slightly. "You want to go somewhere more private?"

"If you don't mind."

"Just so long as I can take my pastry and coffee."

Ianto smirked. "I would never dare to come between a detective inspector and her snack."

Swanson laughed. "I always knew you were smart, and I don't just mean in the clothes department."

Ianto sent the second eyebrow her way. "Are you flirting with me, Detective?"

"God forbid," she answered, although the laugh in her voice belied the mock horror on her face.

She stood, collected her coffee and pastry, then led the way toward the Chief Inspector's office; it was empty, and she explained that DCI Henderson was on vacation. Ianto had worked with the man extensively before he'd been promoted, and while the dragon did respect him, he didn't feel a friendship with him that he did with Kathy Swanson. Ianto had liked Swanson even when she'd been a sergeant, and had been glad when she'd gotten her detective's badge.

Ianto stood aside and let her enter the office first; Swanson sat down in her bosses' chair behind the desk, while the dragon shut the door behind them and took a seat in the chair opposite. On the trip over he'd debated just how much he could tell her, but decided to take a wait and see attitude. Ianto wanted to have her fully onside, but at the same time he didn't want to overload her with information. His instincts were to come clean, and tell her all about Torchwood; and while he always tried to follow his instincts – after what had happened with Lisa, that lesson had been reinforced – he didn't want to put her in an untenable position with her superiors.

And then there was Jack. Ianto wasn't sure if he'd understand if Ianto was totally honest with Swanson, but then he didn't have the contact with the detective that Ianto did. However, Jack did know that Ianto would have told her long ago that he was a dragon, if not for the fact that he didn't want to make things hard for her.

Well, he'd see what happened now. Perhaps it was time for him to rethink that decision.

"So," Swanson began, looking at him over the edge of her mug, "you don't usually want this much privacy. Don't tell me the situation is all that bad."

Ianto shook his head. "It's still early in the investigation, so I can't say yet. "

"Then why all the cloak and dagger stuff? Did you find out that you lot really are involved?" Her voice went sharp.

"As I said, it's too early." He leaned back, resting his elbows on his chair and steepling his fingers in front of his face. "Kathy, I never really asked you: just what do you think Torchwood is?"

Swanson looked startled; whether it was by Ianto's calling her by her first name or the nature of his question, the dragon couldn't say. She set her mug down, frowning. "Well, there are all sorts of rumors out there – "

"Not rumors. What do you _think_?"

"I think you guys are into really weird shit, stuff that normal people aren't ready for," she answered seriously. "Torchwood's been around for decades, and you don't answer to anyone. To a lot of people, that's a scary thought. To some, it's comforting that you don't let things get in your way. Personally….for me, it's a combination of both. I'm just worried that, some day, you're going to go too far and innocents are going to pay for it. God, I don't know that they haven't already."

Ianto nodded. He guessed though that she knew more than she was saying, possibly out of a very real fear of sounding absurd. "You wouldn't be far wrong," he admitted, "although we do answer to someone: the Queen. So we're not as lawless as you might think."

"That's good, although I can't see Her Majesty really paying all that much attention to what you guys do."

"You'd be surprised." Queen Elizabeth was one of the few people who knew what Ianto really was, and she often called him "her Welsh dragon" when he would speak to her. "The Torchwood Institute was commissioned in 1879 by Queen Victoria to protect the Earth from outside threats and other phantasmagoria," he went on. "There have been several branches throughout that time, but right now there are only two left: Torchwood Two, in Scotland; and Torchwood Three, here in Cardiff. Torchwood One was in London, but it was destroyed. Torchwood Four disappeared, and one day may yet turn up. Other branches have long been decommissioned." He thought about Jack's tales about the Duchess, and how she'd run Torchwood India. With her, Yvonne, Archie, and then Jack, the dragon often wondered if it was some sort of prerequisite that leaders of Torchwood had to be somewhat flamboyant. "So, you see we've been doing this sort of thing for a very long time."

Swanson was looking a little gobsmacked. "When you came in here, I wasn't expecting a history lesson!"

Ianto sighed. "We're investigating this crime, which may or may not have anything to do with Torchwood. I thought you might want to know a bit more about us in order to gain a bit of context."

"Sure, you're right. But I'm sure there's a lot you can't say."

"There is, yes, although if it were entirely up to me, you'd know it all. I trust you, Kathy."

She looked pleased by that. "So, just tell me what you can. Though don't think I missed that whole 'outside threat and other phantasmagoria' bit. That just plays into more of the rumors I've heard, and a lot of the coppers here have lived in Cardiff most of their lives, and probably know even more."

"Torchwood _is_ the worst-kept secret in Cardiff." Ianto rolled his eyes. Many of the locals had been affected by the Rift in subtle ways, and Jack once said that that sort of tampering would have long-term effects.

Swanson laughed. "Well, we know it exists…just not what it does exactly."

"What we do would frighten most normal human beings into lifelong nightmares. And please don't think I'm exaggerating. I'm not."

The detective didn't say anything; she looked like she was digesting that, and finding it unpalatable. "So…about these murders…?" she asked, changing the subject.

Ianto respected her even more for not prying. "As of right now, we're trying to find out if the victims had anything in common. I'm going to need to get access to the crime scenes, to look around myself."

"You usually don't ask."

"No...the _captain_ usually doesn't ask. But, this time, he and I actually agree that it would be better to work with you as much as we can, rather than pissing off the entire Cardiff constabulary."

"I think I should mark the calendar…"

He sighed. "This is really the first time that I know of that our purposes are the same, Detective. While I appreciate your frustration with Captain Harkness, we really need to be able to work together to keep anyone else from dying."

Swanson looked suitably chastised. "Fine. I'll have Davidson get you access to both victims' properties. Anything else?"

"I think it's safe to say that your people are trying to figure out what that substance in the killer's hair was."

"Of course we are," she snorted. "Did you really think I'd give up that area of investigation?"

"No, but I was hoping you'd let us work on it."

Her features changed. "You know what it is, don't you?" She narrowed her eyes. "Is that the reason you gave me that bit of history lesson? Because it has something to do with you lot?"

Ianto had known that Swanson was just that good. "In a way," he admitted. "Yes, we do know what that substance is. Its scientific name is B67; we call it Retcon."

"So it's not something new out there on the streets?" When Ianto shook his head, she sighed. "I don't know if I should be relieved by that, or not. So…just what is this Retcon? And what does it have to do with Torchwood? Because I know it has to, so don't bother denying it."

"I wasn't about to," the dragon answered calmly, not wanting to sound defensive. "Retcon was developed by Torchwood One. It's an amnesia pill; taking it wipes selective memories and allows the implantation of false ones."

"Wait." Swanson held up a hand to stop any further words, disbelief written all over her face. "You're telling me, you actually control peoples' memories?" Disbelief was replaced by anger. "What gives you the bloody right to do something like that?"

"Detective," Ianto said, letting her fury roll over him, "it's only for last resort. There are things out there that people just aren't ready to cope with. Knowing certain things would either drive them insane or to hurt themselves or others. Would you rather we let a person who isn't capable of dealing with the horrific just walk off and throw themselves into the bay? Or be sectioned up at Providence Park? Helping them forget is the best way, believe me."

Her anger seemed to dissipate, just a little. "Have you ever used it on my coppers?" she demanded.

Once again, Ianto was impressed; Swanson was more worried about her constables, and not herself. "Yes," he answered, deciding on truthfulness. "According to our records, we've had to Retcon three of your people. One of those men had been in a very traumatic situation that absolutely warranted it. If we hadn't, he wouldn't be here today. The other two…saw something they shouldn't have. There was no choice."

"And you've done this to the entire city?"

"Gods and goddesses, no. As I said…only as a last resort."

"Okay. Let's say I even begin to understand what you're saying. But, our killer had this in his hair. Why? What had he seen that made it a last resort for him?"

"We don't know," Ianto confessed. "We can estimate the time of dosage from that hair, and then see if there was anyone in our records at that time. The problem is, there have been situations when we've distributed Retcon, but there were no records. Usually this means we were caught completely off-guard, and needed to use it without being able to take the time to make an adequate note of it."

"Can someone counteract the effects of this stuff?"

"Certainly. Objects can trigger the buried memories and bring them back to the surface. It has to be a specific trigger object, however."

"Could our killer have remembered whatever it was that you had to drug him up for? That's why he's writing 'Torchwood' all over his crime scenes?"

"That's entirely possible. It's one idea we're looking in to. But we can't jump to conclusions without proof."

Swanson rolled her eyes at that. "Please. I'm a cop. I know all about evidence and due process."

Ianto smiled at her. "I know, Detective."

"So, why tell me about this Retcon stuff?" she asked, examining him closely. "You could have just hid this from me. You didn't have to share all that."

"I know. But I also knew you wouldn't let things go, especially if you thought this was some sort of drug-related killing. You're an intelligent person, Detective. I think you would have tried to figure it out, and come to the wrong conclusion since you don't have the information we do. And, I'm just selfish enough not to want to lose a friend, and that would have happened if you'd thought these murders were overtly connected to Torchwood, instead of possibly being something completely different."

"And what do you think?" she pressed. "What do you think all of this means?"

The dragon shrugged. "I have no idea. I don't even want to guess. But I do know I want you on our side, and being honest is the best way to convince you we're innocent in this, no matter what we find out."

"You're right. Any more secrets would've made you look even worse." She sighed. "All right. I might not like this Retcon shit you guys created, but I can see why it would be used. I'll shut down the testing of what we got from that hair. And I'll get Davidson to give you access to the victims' homes. But you _will_ keep me in the loop, as much as you can. I want to catch this son of a bitch just as much as you guys do." She stood. "And, I think you owe me a bit more of this Torchwood history at some point. I'm not an idiot; I can guess a lot of it. But it's more than I really thought, and I have to admit I can almost understand Himself and his sense of entitlement."

"I'll do the best I can," Ianto said, also standing. "There really is more I want to explain, but it can wait. After we get whoever the murderer is, I think I might have to let you in on a few things."

 

* * *

 

_**24 November 2007** _

 

 

Jack spent a discouraging three hours going through the Retcon store, becoming more and more depressed at what he found.

At a conservative estimate, approximately 300 doses of Retcon were unaccounted for. He'd want someone to verify his findings – most likely Ianto, since his Second would be even more methodical than Jack had been – and then they were going to make some changes in just how Retcon was dispensed. They had to have better procedures; there couldn't be this disparity between their records and the physical inventory any more.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He couldn't help but think that, somehow, Suzie had been involved. Certainly, it was all very circumstantial evidence, but it vaguely added up to _something_. The last dose of Retcon given their murderer coincided with Suzie's death. It had to have been someone within the base itself; no one else had access to Retcon since Torchwood London had fallen. Of course, it could have come from the ruins of Canary Wharf, but UNIT had had the place bolted down tightly before Jack's team had gotten there.

And yet, Ianto had managed to smuggle an injured Lisa out…

Jack shook his head. It was different, hiding a person among other people, than from absconding with a store of Retcon from under both UNIT and Torchwood's collective noses. Most of the records salvaged had remained intact, however, thanks to Toshiko and Ianto; and so Jack knew that wherever the Retcon had come from, it hadn't been from what had been left of Torchwood One.

It had to have come from the Hub. That was the only explanation.

And there was only one person he could come up with that fit the admittedly limited criteria they'd managed to put into play.

Jack closed the cupboard door, taking a step back and almost colliding with a rack of various medical instruments. The Retcon store was located in the larger storage area for the autopsy bay, next to the drugs cabinet. Jack found it ironic that they kept that particular door locked always; and yet anyone could get to the Retcon, considering which one could be considered far more dangerous.

He picked up the PDA he'd been using for the inventory, staring at the small screen as if it was personally cursing at him. They were definitely going to have to make the Retcon supply a lot less accessible. Yet another thing he'd talk to Ianto about.

His mind went back to Suzie. What he couldn't fathom was why – if she was the one responsible – she'd felt the need to drug someone over a long period of time. It didn't make sense, unless whoever she was giving it to kept breaking through the memory block somehow…

And then, another thought struck him, and he cursed at the utter simplicity of it.

"Jack!"

The captain cursed again as he jumped at Ianto's voice. He turned; his Second was standing in the doorway, the look on his human face questioning. "Sorry," Jack muttered. "You startled me."

"No, I'm sorry," the dragon said, "but you looked like you'd just bitten into something that tasted horrible."

"Yeah, figuratively, I might have." He ran a hand through his hair, while the other absently tapped the PDA lightly against his leg. He met Ianto's gaze squarely. "Look, we always assumed that Suzie was working alone, killing those people in order to test the glove."

Ianto nodded. "That just made the most sense."

"Well, suppose she wasn't?" Jack pressed. "Suppose she had an accomplice?"

He could see the thought settle itself in Ianto's brain, and the dragon's eyes widened in shock. "Are you thinking that our murderer is this so-called accomplice? And you think Suzie was responsible for our current killer?"

It made sense. Far too much sense, in Jack's opinion, and he said so.

Ianto chewed his thumbnail absently. "It…might work," he said slowly. "Of course, it would beg the question: why did Suzie Retcon her own partner-in-crime?"

It was a good question. "No idea," Jack admitted. "We'd have to find the person first and find out. Maybe she Retconned him after whatever murder she'd done? Or maybe she…created…a perfect accomplice by wiping his memories and planting new ones? It's not something I really want to even consider."

"If you take this a bit further," Ianto replied, "then, if this person knew Suzie was Torchwood, and if they broke the Retcon and discovered what they'd done, then writing 'Torchwood' in blood at the scenes of crime could have been their way of trying to get Suzie's attention." He shook his head. "It boggles the mind, Jack."

"Yeah, it does." Jack really didn't want to think this of Suzie. It was bad enough that the glove had driven her to murder; for her to possibly have involved an innocent made him almost physically ill. "Did you find anything at all at the crime scenes?" What he didn't add was _'something that would exonerate Suzie?_ '.

Ianto nodded. "I did. It's a probable connection between all three victims." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a yellow paper.

Jack took it. The paper turned out to be some sort of brochure, with the word 'Pilgrim' written on it. He flipped it open, his confusion growing as he read just what Pilgrim was. "And this links our victims?"

"Yes," Ianto answered. "I found that one in Alex Arwyn's glove box. There was a half-full box in a spare room closet at the Briscoe's."

"But why? Why kill people over some metaphysical claptrap?"

The dragon shrugged. "That's the only thing I found. I already have Tosh trying to trace the rest of the group, if there is anyone else."

Jack nodded absently, staring at the brochure as if it held the mysteries of the Universe. He tried to slot this new information into the puzzle that his mind had been putting together…and it didn't fit. He wanted to think this put Suzie in the clear; if he'd known anything about the woman, then it was her complete disregard for anything like what this group was about. She wouldn't have had anything to do with it.

And yet…it was the only thing they'd been able to find that linked the two murders…anything that wasn't Torchwood. Every bit of evidence that did point toward Torchwood, pointed toward Suzie Costello.

"Jack," Ianto cut into his brooding, "I think we should follow up on Suzie. We need to either tie her into this, or exonerate her. And I think we should start with her personal effects."

The captain considered. That made sense. "Who packed up her belongings?"

"Toshiko and I did. We wanted to make sure she hadn't taken anything else out of the Hub."

"Did you find anything?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow at him. "I take it you didn't read the report?" he asked forbiddingly, even though there was a twinkle in his eye that Jack interpreted as the dragon being amused.

He rolled his eyes. "Pretend like I didn't."

That brought out a smirk. "Really, Jack."

"Well, that's why you're here…to give me the highlights of all that boring paperwork."

"And here I thought you hired me for my coffee-making skills."

"There's that, too! And because your ass looks so good in pinstripes."

"Do I have to remind you about the harassment rules?"

Jack leered. "Constantly. Makes me appreciate those Welsh vowels even more."

Ianto sighed, shaking his head, his eyes sparkling.

Jack really wanted to kiss him.

It wasn't just because of how playful Ianto looked in that moment. It was the dragon's brilliant changing of the subject, breaking Jack from his dark mood. It was the very fact that Ianto had known what to do, knew Jack well enough to be able to diffuse what could have been a raging depression. This case seemed to be hitting far too close to home, at the very heart of Jack's family, and Ianto's as well, and yet his Second had taken the chance in making that wise-ass comment in an attempt to make Jack feel better.

And it had worked.

He hadn't even been aware of moving, but suddenly he was standing right in Ianto's personal space. The dragon stood his ground, his ancient eyes meeting Jack's squarely, his pale skin just a bit flushed. "Are you going to harass me some more?" he whispered, his accent thicker than normal.

"Are you going to report me?" Jack asked, equally softly, wanting to take his cue from the being he was so close to. Things were getting so much better between them, and if Ianto didn't want him that near…

"I suppose we can overlook it this time."

It was the answer Jack was looking for.

Goddess, it felt like forever since he'd kissed Ianto, he'd almost forgotten just how warm the dragon's lips were against his, and how well they just seemed to fit together. The slightest pressure from his tongue and Ianto's mouth opened under his, and Jack took him up on the offer, beginning a leisurely exploration of the dragon's human mouth, his hands grasping Ianto's hips as he felt long-fingered hands rest on his shoulders. Ianto's tongue joined Jack's in its exploration, and the immortal moaned softly, pulling Ianto even closer.

The kiss was like coming home. Jack let himself fall into it, and lost track of time as the two melded together, mouths and tongues and hands moving slowly yet passionately until they had no choice but to break away to regain their breath. He pulled back just enough to look at Ianto; the dragon looked back at him, his eyes soft and smiling. "That was…" his voice faded out, as if he couldn't come up with the right word to describe it.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Can we do that again?"

"I think I'd like that," Ianto answered, "but I think we have work to do."

Jack sighed. "You're right." He smiled. "Thank you."

The dragon cocked his head to the side in confusion. "For what?"

"Just for being here."

Ianto snorted quietly. "I think you're stuck with me…for as long as you want me."

_Forever_ , Jack wanted to answer, but didn't dare. Instead, he said lightly, "You're going to get tired of me."

"I very much doubt it." The dragon took a step back, leaving Jack's embrace reluctantly. "Come on," he said. "We need to get going."

"Yes, duty calls." Jack forced down the disappointment he felt with Ianto's withdrawal. It had felt good to be that close to him once more; Jack had missed it, and he hadn't even realized it until that first touch of lips on lips. He could try to fool himself into believing that Ianto Jones didn't mean all that much to him, but he got the impression that it just wouldn't work anymore.

Jack had to face facts.

He was very much in love with a certain dragon. And there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

Not that he'd necessarily want to.

 

* * *

 

The life of Suzie Costello filled one of the smaller rooms in the deepest part of the Hub.

Since the beginning, Torchwood had claimed the worldly possessions of their agents once they'd died. Jack really didn't see the point; it certainly meant that they'd run out of space eventually, and he wasn't looking forward to trying to figure out what to do with generations of personal effects. The damp had already ruined a lot of what had been stored there. So many lives and memories lost to the chill and wet and darkness. It would have been so much easier to simply destroy what wasn't important, instead of letting it pile up.

It would have made a difference if anyone actually came down here, to learn about those who'd given their lives for Torchwood. As it was, no one remembered.

It was incredibly sad, really.

Ianto's torch led the way, bobbing and dancing across the walls and floor as they made their way down. Jack didn't like being this far underground; it was almost a superstitious fear, one that he didn't know where it had come from, but one he'd always had and berated himself for. He wasn't supposed to be like this; he was an enlightened 51st century guy, one who was patently _unsuperstitious_. He just didn't have time for this sort of thing.

Jack remembered that there'd been some talk – back before Alex had killed himself and his team – of moving all this stuff into a storage facility somewhere in Splott, but nothing had ever been done. Jack supposed that, having all this mess in a public locker would have been asking for trouble; what if Torchwood forgot to pay the bill?

Or if something had happened to Torchwood itself?

The rattle of keys brought his attention back to the here and now; Ianto had stopped in front of one door, and was inserting a large brass key into the lock, twisting it strongly. The dragon pulled the metal door open, revealing an even inkier darkness within.

"This is all that's left of Suzie's life," Ianto murmured.

He pointed the torch within the room. Boxes lined the walls, and the sharp scent of damp cardboard floated up to tickle Jack's nostrils. "Let's do this," he said, stepping into the cool room. "With respect."

Ianto didn't answer; he simply headed toward one side, and Jack used his own torch and made his way in the opposite direction.

They worked in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Jack rummaged through his side of the room, taking in what he found, realizing that he hadn't known that much about Suzie after all. She'd apparently loved to read, judging from the sheer amount of books; they all looked well-worn yet taken care of, and it bothered him that, someday, these testaments to Suzie's life outside Torchwood would fall apart under the weight of years and mold, and she would be forgotten.

Then there were pictures. Photos of the team for the most part, but several of an older man that was obviously Suzie's father. Jack frowned; Suzie had wiped her records on her way out, and while Toshiko had tried her hardest to get them back, the woman had been far too thorough. They hadn't been able to inform Suzie's family of her demise. This man would never know that his daughter had been a hero, until madness had claimed her brilliant mind.

"Jack."

He left the box he'd been searching, turning his light onto his second. Ianto stood next to yet another box, holding something that looked disturbingly familiar.

"Shit," Jack breathed, as he saw the word "Pilgrim" emblazoned on the soggy pamphlet in Ianto's hand.

 

* * *

 

_**24 November 2007** _

 

 

"What have we got?" Jack asked the team, as they sat around the conference table.

Ianto took a sip of his coffee, knowing this was going to be a long night. It was almost midnight now, and he didn't see any of them getting out of there anytime soon. He glanced around at his teammates: Owen was practically guzzling his coffee in an attempt to get the caffeine into his system faster; Toshiko kept folding and unfolding the corner of a piece of paper that was tucked half under the laptop in front of her; and Gwen stifled a yawn behind her hand. Jack looked ready to go for another twenty-four hours, but then Ianto knew very well that the immortal could go with very little sleep, but when he crashed Jack was down for the count. Ianto himself could just feel the beginnings of tiredness nibbling at his mind, but his dragon constitution meant that he would outlast anyone else at the table, with the exception of their captain.

"Nothing new on the autopsies," Owen began. "All three were killed by a long-bladed knife, single slash across the throat, easily severing both the carotid and the jugular, which meant they bled out, and pretty damned fast, too. DNA comparison with the victims' blood and the blood on the walls confirms it was theirs and not brought in from somewhere else. None of the victims had Retcon in them. Also, dug back into their medical records and found nothing that links them." He sighed. "Sorry, Jack."

"Don't be," Jack said. "You did good work. Gwen?"

The former PC sat up a little straighter. "Nothing in the evidence taken from the scenes can connect the victims. I ran a check on the CCTV, but the camera closest to Alex Arwyn's house has been out for months, so that didn't fly. I did get a few pictures from the one on the Briscoes' street, but without anything to compare them to…" There was something in her voice, a challenge that had Ianto stifling a sigh.

"Fine, Gwen." Jack must have caught it as well, judging from the sudden stiffening of his shoulders. "Toshiko, please tell me you have something."

The technician grinned. "I have something."

Jack returned the grin. "You have made my night."

Toshiko blushed slightly under the praise. "Well, there wasn't anything in their personal backgrounds that linked them. It wasn't until I got to the financials that something interesting showed up." She consulted her laptop. "Both Sarah Briscoe and Alex Arwyn had charges from the same hotel."

Owen leaned forward. "Were they playing undercover rumba then?"

"Nope," Toshiko answered. "The charges were each on a Tuesday, eight weeks apart, and there are charges going back about three years. And they weren't renting a suite…it was a small conference room."

Ianto put it together at the same time as Jack did, if the dragon was reading his expression correctly. "Did you get into the hotel records to check to see who else had paid for that particular room?" he asked.

Toshiko looked mildly offended. "Of course I did. " At Ianto's placating hand gesture, she continued. "There were seven different people, each on a Tuesday, who had charges made for that room. Apparently they had a regular rota." Then a shadow crossed her features. "I…found a name though, one that we're all familiar with."

Owen and Gwen both looked puzzled, but Ianto knew who it was, and his heart fell. He'd been with Jack, in hoping everything was just a big coincidence, even though he didn't really believe in them.

"Suzie Costello," Jack stated.

Toshiko nodded.

"What the hell?" Owen exclaimed. "You're saying Suzie was involved in whatever's going on?"

"It fits," Jack answered. "Our killer was Retconned over a long period of time, only the dosages stopped a couple of months ago. Suzie had access…and she died about the same time the drugging ended. And, Ianto and I found this in her belongings." He pulled the crumpled flyer from his pocket, setting it on the table. "Ianto also found the same brochures at the Briscoes' house and in Arwyn's car."

"There was nothing in the evidence gathered at either scene," Gwen accused.

"I found the Arwyn brochure in his car," Ianto reiterated. "The police hadn't searched it, so they didn't know they had that particular group in common." They did now, though, thanks to PC Andy Davidson. He'd made certain the copper would report to Detective Swanson on what he'd found.

"I checked into this so-called Pilgrim on Ianto's request," Toshiko added. "They're so small they aren't even on the internet. "

"I did find some records in with the brochures in the Briscoes' closet," Ianto put in. "It's a religious support group, more like a debating society actually."

"Suzie? Belonging to some sort of religious group?" Owen scoffed. "That's like saying Harkness is celibate."

"Owen," Jack snapped.

"Well, it's true!"

Ianto sighed. Owen was right, in a way; Jack certainly knew how to have fun, and he knew how to get whatever and whoever he wanted. It was one of the many reasons why getting into any sort of relationship with him could backfire. Their kiss in the storage room earlier might have been a mistake…but the dragon also knew his own feelings, and he knew that he would be completely unable to deny Jack if the immortal wanted to resume their physical relationship. He only hoped that the man's apparent change of heart was permanent. He was willing to give Jack the benefit of the doubt for now.

"But that can't be our Suzie," Owen went on. "She wouldn't go to that support group bollocks."

"How do you know?" Gwen challenged. "I mean, were you friends? Any of you…who was her best friend in this place?"

Everyone at the table bristled under her verbal assault. The dragon wondered what gave her the right to ask that. Certainly, he and Suzie hadn't been close, but he knew for a fact that she and Toshiko had hung out, and of course there was her physical relationship with Owen. "And we have the proof," Ianto cut her off, before she could cause any more damage. "We have the flyer found in her belongings."

"Plus her name in the hotel records," Toshiko added.

"She did usually ask for Tuesdays off," Ianto said, adding one more piece of the puzzle.

"There's one way of finding out for certain," Gwen said.

Ianto stared at her, knowing immediately what she was going to suggest. It angered him; Jack had made it perfectly clear that the glove was not to be used for any reason, and yet she was about to say it once more.

Jack apparently knew it, as well. "I said we weren't using the glove, Gwen. Don't you dare suggest it again."

"But Jack – "

"Jack said no," Ianto snapped. "His orders apply to you, too."

Gwen glared at him. "We have a tool that can solve these crimes; why aren't we using it?"

"We told you why," Jack answered angrily.

"Besides," Owen put in, "according to Suzie's own research, the fresher the kill the better the results. She's been dead too long for it to work."

"Don't bring it up again, Gwen," Jack ordered. "We will not be using the glove, now or never."

The woman crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed in anger. But she didn't say anything else about the glove, which was a good thing. If she had, Ianto would have Retconned her himself, and it wouldn't have mattered if Jack had objected.

Ianto was glad that Jack wasn't pandering to her anymore; he'd been convinced that Jack had hired her in order to get her into bed. The captain's own behavior had only reinforced that notion, with his putting her before the rest of the team, and the rather more intense than usual flirting. But, ever since what had happened with Lisa, Jack had been more willing to see Gwen's faults and not praise her for something that no one else on the team could see…this so-called humanity. It made Ianto wonder just what had happened to change his view of her.

Their own relationship had done nothing but improve after the mess with the Fae. Ianto was actually allowing himself to hope that they'd turned some sort of corner, and that Jack would be more willing to open up to him. After all, he'd told Ianto about the Doctor, and about waiting for over one hundred years to get answers as to why he couldn't die. And, while Ianto didn't want Jack to leave when the Time Lord did show up, a part of him could understand it.

And Jack had promised to come back. To Ianto, that meant something.

Yes, it would be one more time that Ianto's heart would be broken. But he didn't want to think about that. He hoped that his own killing of Lisa would have broken that curse; yes, that had been the second time, but Ianto had made that decision himself, and had broken his own heart. The only consideration that had come into it had been the saving of the team and of any innocent people Lisa would have taken out her insanity on. He could only hope that his actions that night had broken the cycle that the Tarot girl had foretold.

"So, why is this killer going after these Pilgrim people?" Owen asked, bringing Ianto back into the meeting and away from his thoughts.

Jack met Ianto's gaze, and the dragon could see that he was trying to get a silent opinion on what to share. Their conversation in the storage room rang in Ianto's mind, and while he didn't want to think that Jack was right…he nodded slightly, acquiescing to the notion.

The captain sighed. "We think – "

"We?" Gwen interrupted.

He glared at her. "Ianto and I," he clarified, "think this killer could have been Suzie's accomplice in her own murder spree."

Ianto watched their reactions. Toshiko's eyes went wide, while Owen cursed a blue streak. Gwen simply sat there, but the look in her eyes said that she was fully expecting them to take her suggestion about using the glove now.

She was going to be disappointed.

"You think she Retconned her own accomplice?" Toshiko asked.

"It makes fucking sense," Owen spat. "You think whoever this has broke the memory block, don't you?"

Jack nodded. "It's a possibility, yes. And these murders are an attempt to get Suzie's attention."

"The only way that's gonna happen is if any of the victims meet her in hell," the medic growled.

"Toshiko." Jack turned to their technician. "I want you to get on those other members of Pilgrim. We need photos of them, personal information…anything you can dig up."

An idea suddenly hit Ianto. "Jack, can we also assume that the killer is also someone involved in Pilgrim?"

"I think so," Jack answered slowly considering the question. "Yes. It would make sense that he has some knowledge of Pilgrim and its members."

"Is that why Suzie joined them?" Owen asked. "To find someone to help her test that fucking glove?"

"I don't think we'll ever know her motivations," Jack said. "At this point, all we can do is guess. We know the glove pretty much took her over, and I have to live with that knowledge."

"You couldn't have known," Toshiko said. "And we all didn't see how it was affecting her."

"Hell, I was shagging her," Owen snorted. "If anyone should've seen it, it was me."

Gwen looked shocked at that little piece of information. _Big surprise_.

Ianto felt the same way as the others; he'd warned Jack that there was something off about the glove, but had agreed with the testing. "It's no one's fault," he added. "All we can do is pick up the pieces."

"Right," Jack agreed. "And our first step should be to track down the remaining members of Pilgrim." He turned back to Toshiko. "Did you happen to notice if that room had been reserved this coming Tuesday?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. But, if the rota stays the same, it would have been Alex Arwyn's turn next week."

"They're gonna be surprised to show up and see that he hasn't made their usual reservation," Owen snarked.

"I think our next step," Jack said, "is to get any and all information we can on the others who've rented that room and track them down. Just because the police have found three victims, doesn't mean there might not be more out there we don't know about. I'd normally say we wait for the next meeting and beard them in their lair, so to speak, but I don't think we have the time to do that."

"You're right," Gwen put in. "Our killer has struck three times on consecutive nights, so we shouldn't be surprised if he does again before we can track him down." She sounded vaguely accusatory.

"Detective Swanson is already aware of that," Ianto answered, more harshly than might have been strictly necessary. "She has almost all the same information that we do, and her people are following their own set of leads. I think we can trust the constabulary to run down anything that could prove useful to this case. It sounds to me, Gwen, that you don't trust the very people you used to work with."

The former PC stared at him angrily. "I never said that," she snapped. "But this is now obviously a Torchwood matter, and the local police don't have the training to deal with that."

"We're dealing with a murderer, Gwen," Ianto replied. "Police are, indeed, trained to deal with such things. Our killer isn't an alien, or under some form of alien control. If it weren't for the Retcon and Suzie's involvement I would have suggested that they handle it themselves. They are perfectly capable."

"Torchwood caused this! I can't believe you'd just let it lie!"

Ianto could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, but it wasn't in any form of condemnation. "I beg to differ. Torchwood didn't cause this; it was caused by a mentally ill woman who was affected by her time in Torchwood. Yes, Jack may feel responsible for Suzie going insane – and he really shouldn't – but these killings have been caused by one person: Suzie Costello. If she weren't in Torchwood we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"And even if this killer was random," Toshiko added, "Torchwood is the worst-kept secret in Cardiff. Up until we had confirmation of the Retcon and of Suzie being involved it could easily have been someone wanting to make us look bad."

"I never heard of Torchwood until that night with the glove," Gwen denied, her face going red.

"That's not our concern," Jack jumped back in. "What is, is that we do need to find this killer before someone else dies. And, as far as I'm concerned, after we get him the local police can have him…that is, unless he knows more about Torchwood than he should. If that's the case, then we tuck him away in Providence Park for the rest of his natural life. Now, we have work to do. Get to it."

Ianto stood, his eyes meeting Gwen's across the table. He got the distinct impression that he hadn't heard the last from the fiery woman.

 

* * *

 

_**25 November 2007** _

 

 

It was well after midnight before Toshiko managed to dig up addresses and information on the other members of Pilgrim, and that was with Ianto helping her.

Jack had sent Gwen home; he could only deal with her belligerent morality so much, and he didn't want to say something he'd regret later. While she hadn't brought the subject of the glove up again, he could tell that she wanted to, and finding her standing in front of the door to the Secure Archives was just a bit too much. He knew she'd never be able to get inside – only he and Ianto had the codes – but it was the very notion that she might actually _try_ to do something that irritated him more. A part of him almost wished that she had, but it wasn't as if he needed a valid reason to Retcon her if he chose.

Gwen had argued about leaving during an active investigation, but Jack had insisted, telling her to go home to Rhys. He had no idea if she and Owen were still shagging, but he suspected they were, and that bothered him more than he cared to admit. Normally, he would have kept his nose out of his team's assignations, but one of the reasons he'd hired Gwen was that she was normal, that she had a relationship outside Torchwood. That made her almost a pioneer in that respect, and had hoped that having someone waiting for her at home would ground her. Besides, while he did talk a big game, at the end of the day Jack Harkness respected partnerships in all their forms. He would never even think about coming between people who were committed to each other.

Which was why he'd been so surprised to hear how his team had seen his 'flirting' with Gwen. He hadn't considered the impression it gave, since he flirted with everyone. But, ever since that night in his office when Toshiko had called him down on his behavior, Jack had thought back on it all and come to the conclusion that he'd been a bit more brazen with his innuendo around Gwen than he'd thought.

Even Ianto had thought that Jack had hired Gwen to take her to his bed. That had hurt more than anything, but he'd brought it on himself. And then there was this card reading that Ianto had gotten, where that girl had foretold that Jack would break Ianto's heart four times…Jack didn't want to think he could do something like that to the dragon. And yet, he had.

Well, Jack would just have to make it up, and to somehow avoid the other two times. Although, he suspected that one of those would be his leaving with the Doctor.

The immortal hoped that Ianto believed him when he said he'd come back. Because he would. He would do whatever was in his power to return to the dragon.

The dragon that he'd somehow fallen in love with.

Jack sighed. He looked out over the Hub from his office, watching as Ianto and Toshiko worked closely together. He'd also sent Owen off, and he hoped that the medic and Gwen weren't meeting up right then.

"Jack," Toshiko called out, turning to look in his direction.

He left his office, striding toward his tech's work station. Toshiko looked tired, but there had been no way she would have left before her given task was done. "Whatcha got?"

"I have all the information you wanted," she reported, then favored the dragon with a smile. "With Ianto's help, of course." Ianto smiled back.

"Well done, the two of you." Jack felt a warm glow of pride in these two; they always rose to the challenge, and he didn't know what he'd do without them. That was when it struck him, that he'd told Gwen that she was replaceable, but that wasn't the case with Ianto, Toshiko, and Owen. Those three carried Torchwood on their backs; they made certain everything ran at top efficiency. Gwen didn't; she really didn't have a place there, despite Jack's own assurance to the others that she did. But he was quickly coming to the conclusion that he'd been so enamored of having someone who reminded him so much of Rose Tyler on the team that it had overridden his common sense.

"We should have no trouble tracing the members of Pilgrim who paid their share on that room," Ianto added.

"Which we will do," Jack said, "tomorrow. Or maybe I should say later today, if my watch is correct. Toshiko, you all right to get home?"

She nodded. "I'm fine, Jack."

"Then out you get. We'll have our work cut out for us and I want us all fresh." He turned to his Second. "Ianto – "

"I think I'll just go down to my hoard room," the dragon cut him off smoothly. "I can rest there just as easily as I could at home."

Jack was a little surprised; ever since Lisa, Ianto hadn't really spent a lot of time down there. "All right, but I do expect you to rest."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Oh, Tad," he answered, sounding just like a stroppy child who'd just been told to go to bed because it was a school night.

"Oi, that's enough out of you," Jack scolded, causing Toshiko to laugh.

"Good night you two," she chuckled, putting on her coat and grabbing up her laptop case.

"Good night, Toshiko," both Jack and Ianto chorused as she left through the cog door.

"Come on," Jack said, "let's get this place shut down."

Together the two moved about the Hub, setting everything for night mode. They worked quietly, and Jack simply enjoyed the companionship. How could he have ever taken this for granted? And yet he had, to his shame. Just the dragon's presence was enough to make the immortal content. Goddess, he'd wasted so much time…

They finished in silence. Ianto turned to look at Jack, a soft smile on his face. "Would you…like to come and sleep with me?"

To anyone else, Jack knew that would have been an invitation to sex. But with Ianto, it meant just that…sleeping together. Jack should have been disappointed, but this was Ianto Jones, and just resting beside the dragon's warm body was good enough. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Jack accompanied the dragon down into the depths of the Hub, to the door that opened onto the dragon's hoard. He'd been down there many times, but not since Ianto had locked him in during the affair with Lisa. The moment he entered he noticed a difference: something in the atmosphere, something he couldn't identify. Ianto had obviously been down there more than Jack had thought; he could tell that some of the precious items had been moved around, there were more pillows and quilts on the stone floor…and in each corner, a tall wooden post stood propped up against the wall, with what looked like carvings on them.

He found himself drawn to the post closest to him. It was made from what looked like oak, and the swirls and sigils cut into it were still as sharp as if they'd just been carved, even though Jack could tell it was very old. He reached out a tentative hand to touch it, then withdrew before his fingers got too close.

"That is one of the posts that my family carved in celebration of my sister's mating," Ianto's soft voice sounded behind him. "I and my father made them."

Jack turned; the dragon was laying on the pillows, his slitted eyes staring at Jack as if trying to see into his soul. He could see the sadness in them, and the immortal could sympathize with the dragon. "How old were you?" he asked quietly, turning back to look at the post.

"Still a child by dragon standards," he chuckled. "I was a whole four hundred and two." His voice turned sad once more. "I remember my mother saying she was looking forward to my mating day."

He turned back, meeting those old eyes once more. He wasn't even aware that he'd moved, until he was standing next to the dragon, his arm looped over his neck in comfort. "I'm sorry."

"No need to be. I've long accepted it."

"But you still dream of your mate. Maybe one day…"

"No, Jack. I'm the last. There are no more. That vision was a lie."

Jack would have been angry at having believed something that had turned out to be false, but the dragon simply sounded resigned. He remembered what he'd heard, the day they'd realized that Toshiko was being controlled by that pendant, and a small flush of happiness went through him, knowing that he could make the dragon feel better. "That day must have been beautiful, though," he said, wanting Ianto to focus on the happy memories instead of the bad.

"It was," the dragon reminisced. "My father was so proud. Marcus was a red dragon, and a centurion in the Roman Army, even though he'd planned on deserting after the mating since he didn't want to be recalled to Rome. Marcus was a good dragon, and he loved my sister dearly. Did you know dragons mate for eternity?"

"No, I didn't."

"We do. I can still remember the priest as he said the vows, and Sabrina and Marcus repeated them. And then, we sang…but it was the Earth Dragon's song, and not the one we'd prepared. That's when I had my first vision of what was supposed to have been my future mate. I told my parents and my father said he'd be welcomed into the family."

Jack settled down at the dragon's side, feeling the warmth of his inner fire sinking through his clothes and into his skin. He wondered how Ianto's parents would have thought of knowing their son had taken a human as a lover, but didn't ask that question. Instead, he inquired, "What were the posts for?"

"They were used to call the Great Dragons," Ianto explained. "There are four Great Dragons, each for a corner of the world: Fire, Air, Water, and the most powerful of them all, Earth. These spirits would come and bless the mating, and were called to the circle by a priest. Carving those posts is a ceremony for the families of the two who are to be mated. I remember though that Marcus didn't have any family left, since they'd died at Pompeii, so it was left to us."

"But these…spirits. What are they?" Jack wanted to understand, to know this piece of the dragon's culture. There was so much he didn't know, that made Ianto the way he was, and Jack was fully aware of how his scoffing attitude would have hurt the dragon's feelings. He didn't want to be that way anymore. He wanted to know, so he wouldn't fall into the trap of denigrating what dragons found sacred.

"It's said, that back at the beginning of our race, four Great Dragons came and raised us out of barbarism and taught us how to be real dragons. Their spirits remain behind to watch over us."

Once again, Jack wondered if some sort of alien race had interfered with the development of Ianto's people. It certainly sounded it, from this story. But he didn't mention it, not wanting to infer something he had no proof of, or to anger the dragon by thinking Jack was somehow disparaging his beliefs. "The mating sounds wonderful," he murmured. "I wish I could have seen it."

"I wish you could have, too. I think my father would have liked you, and you him. Although I would've had to warn you about flirting with my sister, since Marcus wasn't simply red in color." The dragon's voice held laughter, and Jack was glad the melancholy had faded.

"Gotcha." Jack couldn't help but smile. "Now, we both have a busy day ahead of us. Why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"Only if you do the same."

"I'll try." Truth be told, while Jack didn't really need a lot of sleep, he rested much better in Ianto's presence.

The dragon shifted slightly, curling his head up under his wing, so that his snout was facing in Jack's direction. Wise blue eyes met Jack's, and the dragon said, "Good night."

"Good night," Jack returned, watching those eyes close. His own did the same, his body practically cuddled into the dragon's side, taking comfort from the large body under his head.

 

* * *

 

_He was standing beside a lake that looked familiar, surrounded by his loved ones as he waited for his mate to arrive. He was nervous, but also excited; this was a day he'd long looked forward to, the day he'd become mated to the one he would spend eternity with._

_And there he was, in his ephemeral form, dressed in charcoal gray and blue. He was smiling, love shining from his blue eyes as his attendant escorted him to the prepared circle, marked out by four large, engraved posts._

_A woman – the priestess overseeing the ceremony – stepped into the circle. "Are the two who wish to become mated with us today?"_

_Excitement thrummed through him as he and his new mate made their presence known, stepping into the circle. As he did so, he could feel the change coming over him, and he flexed his wings as they unfurled at his back. His mate was the same, his dragon form glittering in the thin shaft of sunlight that had appeared over the mountains._

_The power of the circle pressed in on him, but he welcomed it, as the human priestess made the call of the Great Dragons. Incantations as old as time where spoken, and they appeared, one after the other, to bless the union._

_But the Earth Dragon was the most powerful, and the song that it sang was of dark places and growth and fertility, and of all Life itself. That song echoed through his very bones, as the ceremony was completed, and he was bound for eternity to the dragon at his side._

_Together, they launched themselves into the air, to meet the rising sun._

_Green and blue-gray chased each other, urging themselves onward into the sky, and his cry echoed over the valley as they rose higher and higher, eventually so far up that the blue of the sky changed to indigo, and he called to his mate as he reached out, and his mate joined with him in the song of eternity, their bodies winding into one, their mutual arousal of the mating flight overcoming all other impulses._

_As they wrapped themselves around each other, gravity took over, and they began to fall. It didn't matter; he was caught up with his mate, and he gave up control with the ultimate trust of a soulmate. His mate took him as they plummeted downward, and they screamed out their orgasm to the heavens…_

Jack awoke suddenly, his conscious mind chasing the dream even as he'd chased the green dragon through the sky. His clothes felt constrictive, and his trousers were damp from the orgasm that had awakened him.

The dragon's even breathing told him that he hadn't disturbed Ianto. Jack shifted carefully, really wanting to talk to Ianto about what he'd dreamed, but he stopped himself. It was silly, more than likely just an effect of the story the dragon had told him, and nothing more.

But it seemed so very real. He could still feel the wind rushing through his non-existent wings, and his body was telling him that he'd just had really good sex. He sighed, a really big part of him wishing it had been real, wanting to experience a true dragon mating…with Ianto.

Jack shivered, and then rose. He needed to get out of his soiled clothing.

As he stood, he glanced toward the post resting in the corner closest to him.

It was glowing.

 

* * *

 

_**25 November 2007** _

 

 

The dragon snapped awake, immediately noticing that Jack had left his side. He raised his head, trying to find the immortal, hoping that he hadn't left the hoard room.

It had taken a lot of courage on Ianto's part to invite Jack to rest with him. Yes, it had happened several times since their return from the Brecon Beacons, but this had felt different from those nights. Perhaps it had been the kiss that they'd shared, or something else that the dragon wasn't aware of, but having Jack in with him had felt intimate in ways that he couldn't name.

He found Jack almost immediately. He was standing in front of the Earth Dragon's totem, his arm raised as he pushed buttons on his Vortex Manipulator. Even though Jack had his back to him, the dragon could tell the man was tense, his shoulders and back stiff. "What is it?" he asked quietly, not wanting to startle him.

Jack spun. He looked disheveled; his braces where hanging low on his hips, his shirt pulled out of his trousers. The dragon was more surprised by the actual condition of those trousers, and was circumspect enough not to let his gaze linger on the obvious dampness there. "Those posts…you said they were from your sister's mating ceremony?"

"That's right." The dragon frowned, confused by the question.

"And there isn't anything alien at all in them?" Jack sounded almost accusatory.

"No, there isn't. My father and I cut them ourselves. Jack…what's going on?"

Jack snapped the cover of his Manipulator closed. "I…woke up, and it was glowing."

"That's not possible!"

"I'm not making it up – "

"And I don't think you are. But I swear to you: all four posts are simply carved oak. They were used once, and that was all."

"You also said they were used to call your Great Dragons."

"I did, yes." He looked at Jack, whose expression was almost…spooked. "I don't pretend to understand what goes into calling the Dragons, but I can promise you that any magic that might have once been within them would have been used in the actual ceremony. And even then, it wasn't the posts themselves that held the power; it was the priest himself."

It was a testament to Jack's preoccupation that he didn't even seem to notice the dragon's use of the word 'magic'. "What about anything about them reacting to the Rift?"

He considered the question. The dragon's thoughts went back to him and his father's conversation about the posts as they were carving them in preparation for Sabrina's mating. "Nothing that I know of. My father told me that they were really simply anchors for the Dragons to appear. The symbols on them helped with that, and were specific for each of the Great Dragons. They, themselves, didn't carry any sort of power."

"If they're anchors," Jack said, "could they be somehow anchoring the Rift energy as well?"

That was something he hadn't considered. "I suppose it might be possible," the dragon answered slowly. "As I said, I don't know what goes into the actual Calling." His mind once again turned back, to the gathering all those centuries ago. "I remember the words of the invocation, though."

"What are they?"

The dragon really wanted to know why Jack had asked, but he kept his question to himself. "First, there was the call to the Fire Dragon. It went: 'I call upon the Dragon of Fire, who keeps the soul of the Earth burning brightly between his mighty claws, bless this mating with the warmth of comfort and love'."

As he said the words, a shiver seemed to ruffle his scales, and he craned his head around to look at the post that had been for the Fire Dragon…

But nothing was happening. It simply stood there, unchanged.

Jack looked surprised. "What else?" he prompted.

"Well, then there was the Air Dragon: 'I call upon the Dragon of Air, who keeps the breath of the Earth flowing from her great wings, bless this mating with the breeze of laughter and understanding."

A loud noise caused both dragon and man to spin around. One of the many books that he'd collected throughout the centuries had fallen off its shelf, and had landed on the floor. But, like the first, this post also stayed the same.

"Something's happening," Jack murmured, a confused expression on his face. There was also something else that he couldn't identify.

"The Dragons aren't coming," the dragon averred. "But you're right. I'm not saying the rest of the invocation."

"Yeah. Not until we can do it under controlled testing. I want every instrument we have to be scanning."

The dragon had to agree. He hadn't even considered that these relics of a happier time could do anything other than bring up memories for him. "I would never have brought them here if I'd known they'd be affected in some way." He hoped that Jack didn't think he'd done it on purpose; they were just getting back to their old levels of trust, and he didn't want to endanger that.

"I know." The confused look had changed into something soft, and it made the dragon's heart skip a beat to see it. "But I think sleeping down here…I don't know." Jack shook his head.

The dragon got the distinct impression that Jack was bothered by something. "Are you all right?" he asked gently.

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You must have had a really good dream," he teased, wanting to bring the captain out of the mood he was apparently in.

Jack actually blushed…which surprised the dragon. He would have thought having a wet dream like that would have been something to brag about. "I…yeah, I guess you could say it was." Was there a hint of disappointment in Jack's voice? "It was what woke me up."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

The question brought out a chuckle. "Yeah. It's just been…well, I can't remember the last time I came in my trousers like a teenager. Probably _was_ a teenager, to be honest."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens to everyone." He wondered just what – or better yet, whom – Jack had been dreaming about. A tiny bit of jealousy flared within him, and he tamped it back down ruthlessly. He had no right to be jealous, it wasn't as if they were mated…

"It's just…" Jack looked positively conflicted, running his hand through his sleep-tousled hair.

"What is it?" He didn't want to pry, but he got the feeling that Jack really wanted to tell him something. "You know you can tell me anything."

Jack took a deep breath. "It was the dream. It…just wasn't about sex. And, when I woke up, and I saw the post…well, shit." He physically shook himself. "Look, I want to change my trousers, they're chafing a bit. How about we go up to my office and I'll explain? And maybe I could convince you to work some coffee magic?" He pouted prettily, and it was an expression the dragon couldn't resist.

"Certainly." He triggered his transformation, changing back into Ianto Jones, a grin on his face. Jack only believed in one sort of magic, it seemed.

But the grin vanished quickly, as he considered just how disturbed Jack seemed to be. That dream had bothered him, despite the evidence of just how pleasurable it had been.

Ianto was looking forward to hearing what it was. And yet, he wasn't.

 

* * *

 

By the time the coffee was done, Jack had changed and was seated at his desk. Ianto entered the office with their two mugs, handing one to the immortal while he took the other and sat in the chair opposite. Jack looked lost in thought, although he smiled and accepted the coffee.

The dragon waited for Jack to begin. Pushing him wasn't the way to get him to open up, which was why Gwen would never be the confidante she thought she was. Ianto knew it was close to four in the morning, and he was willing to sit patiently for as long as it took. He sipped his coffee, and the quiet spun out between them, and yet it was a very comfortable silence.

Ianto had drunk about half his coffee when Jack set his own cup down. He leaned his elbows on the desk's blotter, steepling his fingers and looking at Ianto expectantly. "Can I ask…did you dream anything tonight? Anything at all?"

He considered the question seriously, although he had no idea what Jack was getting at. "No, I didn't, which surprises me. Why do you ask?"

Jack suddenly looked uncertain. "Then I can't claim we telepathically shared the same dream."

Ianto frowned. "What are you talking about?" He was concerned; while he'd seen the captain tentative before, there was almost something…well, _delicate_ , in the way he was acting. "What happened?"

"I…" He shook his head. "I dreamed I was a dragon." The way he said it, it came out in a breathless rush.

The dragon's eyebrows went up. "You what?" he asked, for sheer clarity. Jack couldn't possibly have just said…

"I dreamed I was a dragon," the immortal repeated. "A blue-gray dragon, in fact."

Coffee would have ended up all over the floor if Ianto hadn't had better reflexes. His heart was racing so fast he couldn't breathe.

_Jack had dreamed he was a blue-gray dragon_.

Of course, Ianto had told Jack about his dream, and about the vision that he'd had of his long-lost mate. He could feel the blood drain from his face as he stared at Jack, who was looking just as shocked.

Before he could register it, Jack had left his chair, and was kneeling in front of the dragon, taking the coffee mug away and setting it on the desk. Then he took Ianto's hands in his, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't know it would upset you so much, or else I wouldn't have said anything."

"No, it's fine," Ianto assured him, trying to smile and not making a good job of it. What was Jack doing, dreaming of his dragon-mate?

No…what was Jack doing dreaming he _was_ his dragon-mate?

Ianto couldn't believe it. It was too bizarre for words. What had meant to be a restful night had turned into one for surprises.

And what was this about? He couldn't think. All he could do was stare at Jack, and wonder just what this meant. "Tell me?" he whispered.

Jack nodded. "It was…a mating, I'm pretty sure. In fact, you kinda confirmed it when you started quoting your sister's ceremony, because the priestess in the dream said those words – "

"Priestess?" There were no more priests and priestesses who knew of the old rituals.

"Yeah. Pretty woman, dark hair. But she called us into the circle – "

"Us?" Ianto ignored the squeak in his voice.

Jack nodded. "We were both there. When we entered the circle, we both…changed. I was a dragon, Ianto." He stared up into the dragon's eyes, as if begging him to believe him.

Ianto nodded, and Jack took that as acknowledgment and continued. As he spoke, he described the ceremony, and Ianto had no idea how Jack could even know about what occurred with dragon matings, because he hadn't gone into all that much detail, considering it personal. But Jack was describing it perfectly, and he didn't want to hope but he couldn't help it…

He'd wanted Jack to be his mate for a long time. But he'd known it wasn't possible, because Jack wasn't a dragon. There could be no real mating, despite any feelings to the contrary. He wasn't even sure that Jack would even consider it, if it was possible.

When Jack finished with the mating flight, Ianto had gone from surprise to disappointment. Their mating could never be; Jack wasn't a dragon, there would never be that joining that would last for all eternity. No songs for them; no flight for them. No calling the Great Dragons, despite what had happened down in the hoard room.

Jack must have been able to tell that Ianto was upset, because he sat forward and wrapped the dragon into a hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured in Ianto's ear.

Ianto clutched at him. "It's fine," he answered softly. "It just strikes me just how alone I am. I'll be all right."

Eventually Jack pulled back, looking at him closely. "But we have to ask the question," he said. "Why did I dream that? Why did I dream that we were mated? I'm not a dragon, and while you haven't really said anything, I guess it's impossible for dragons to mate with a human…"

He nodded, even as his mind began working on what Jack was saying. "You've never had that sort of dream before?"

"No, never. Now, I'm not going to lie…I have had highly erotic dreams about me being with you while you're in your dragon form…" The leer that accompanied that confession made Ianto laugh. "But I've never once even considered that sort of thing."

Ianto's eyes narrowed, his mind adding up a few things. "You think it has something to do with the post, don't you?"

Jack shrugged. "I can't deny that the dream and what happened did coincide. And you know how I feel about coincidences."

Ianto felt the same way. But he just couldn't understand why it was happening now. Well, whatever it was. "So, we really need to find out what happened down there."

"We do." Jack stood. "But it can wait until after we finish our current investigation. Then, I want every instrument we have down there, to see if we can find something."

"I agree." Ianto really wanted to know. He had no idea why Jack would be having the same dream that he'd had for so long.

He couldn't help it; a very tiny kernel of hope had bloomed within him, that – in some strange way – he and Jack could somehow have a true dragon mating. That, someday, he'd have the certainty of never being alone again.

 

* * *

 

_**25 November 2007** _

 

 

"All right," Jack said, staring at each member of his team as they sat around the boardroom table, "Toshiko has got us pictures of the people who paid for the hotel room. Gwen," he turned to the former PC, who was sitting on his left, still looking a bit belligerent that morning, "I want you to run facial recognition software on the CCTV hits you got from the Briscoe's neighborhood camera. If we're lucky, we can get a lead quickly. Tosh," he glanced at his technician, "did you have any luck with the hotel's CCTV?"

She shook her head. "It's on an old VHS system, and it looks like they recycle the tapes every 48 hours."

That was a shame, but they'd just have to roll with it. "Then I want you and Ianto to go and question the manager. Find out everything you can about Pilgrim; if they've been renting the same room for years then you can bet management knows something about them that they might be willing to share."

Toshiko nodded, as did Ianto who was seated beside her and to Jack's right. The two worked well together, and he had confidence that they'd be able to get something of use.

"Owen," he looked at his medic last," I want you with me. Together we're going to go over One's notes on the Retcon testing. I started to yesterday but a lot of the medical information isn't in my area of expertise."

Owen shrugged, twirling a biro in his fingers. "Sounds good to me. Just glad you didn't ask me to go with Tosh and Dragon Boy. That's my idea of a boring time."

"Like we'd let you out on an unsuspecting public," Ianto drawled, favoring Owen with a pitying look. Toshiko choked on her giggles.

"Oi! I'm not that bad!"

"Last I heard," Ianto added, "you failed the 'Bedside Manner' course in medical school."

"No," Owen sniped back, "I didn't fail. I just didn't take the bloody class."

"Okay, kids," Jack chastised, then said, "and dragon," as a certain Second cleared his throat, "let's find our killer."

With those words, the team filed out; except for Owen, who remained at the table where all of the paper files on the Retcon testing had been set out. Jack grabbed a few of the files, and began to read.

The thing was, he simply couldn't concentrate.

He wanted to; this investigation was too important, but at the same time he couldn't help but think of the ramifications of a mating with Ianto. He couldn't lie to himself; he wanted it, more than he could say. Never, in his over a century of waiting for the Doctor, had Jack even considered the commitment this would entail. He had always intended on leaving Earth with the Doctor, but now…now he knew that wasn't the case anymore. Jack would get his answers…and would come home.

To Ianto.

The dream brought home to him just what a dragon mating was. He could still hear the song in his head, and wondered if this was what Toshiko had heard, back when she'd been wearing the Arcateenian pendant. _The Song of the Earth Dragon_ , Ianto had said. It had been…beautiful, and for the first time in his life Jack had believed in magic.

He'd tried the domestic thing before, back when he'd thought he was still mortal, before the first death that had proved otherwise. Then there had been Estelle, who'd drawn him in like a moth to her bright flame; so full of life, and love, and a vibrancy that was oh so rare…and so very precious. It wasn't until Stella Courtney in the 70's that he'd found that again; even though she'd been a rebound from Lucia, there had been something that drawn Jack to her, although they hadn't lasted more than a couple of weeks after Stella had accidentally gotten involved with Torchwood.

And then there was Ianto, who was so completely different from any of his previous lovers.

Well, they weren't technically lovers yet, but Jack intended on changing that.

"Jack!"

Owen's voice brought him back to the task at hand. "Sorry," he said, chagrined. "I was a million miles away."

"No, really?" the medic snarked. "I never would've noticed, I've only been trying to get your attention for the last couple of minutes."

"Did you have something?" he asked, trying to get back on track.

"Nothing much about long-term effects," Owen reported. "Lots of medical jargon you wouldn't understand."

"Then why did you call me?"

"Because you'd been reading the same page over and over again."

"Yeah, sorry," he apologized again. "Just have a lot on my mind."

"Apparently."

"Look," Jack sighed. "Let's just get back to work."

Owen shrugged. "Fine by me. But I'm not doing all this shit myself."

Jack rolled his eyes, and forced his brain to start seeing the data in front of him instead of the images from the dream last night.

Some of what Torchwood One did in their tests was fascinating; other parts were horrific. Even before Yvonne Hartman's reign London had had questionable morals concerning just how they did business. It made Jack glad that he'd completely cut Cardiff off from One; and, although a lot of innocent people had paid the price for Yvonne Hartman's and her management staff's hubris, the captain was glad that the place had been destroyed.

"These people were sick bastards," Owen growled.

"You're not kidding," Jack agreed.

"Some of this shit…fuck, Jack, I wouldn't treat my worst enemy this way! Here's one repot where they actually wiped out someone's entire life, Retconned them back to nappies. And the scientist in charge was so fucking clinical in his notes…I'll never joke about that sort of thing again."

"Anything on implanting memories?" Jack asked, in an effort to distract the medic from the worst of the files.

"Not yet…wait, here's something. It's a report about how the testers took away six months' worth of memories, and gave the poor bastard enough false memories that his mind filled in most of the blanks itself."

They were perusing the file – and Jack was becoming more and more disturbed by it – when Gwen appeared in the doorway. "Jack, I think I have a hit on the CCTV search."

_At last_. "Whatcha got, Gwen?"

She held up a photo of an older man, with gray hair and an overgrown goatee. "Max Tresilian," she said. "He was caught on camera outside the Briscoe's street about half an hour before the murders occurred. He's also on Tosh's list of people who paid for the hotel conference room."

Jack grinned. "We got an address on him?"

Gwen nodded.

"Then have Ianto and Toshiko meet us there. Hopefully this is our killer, and we can stop him before he kills again."

 

* * *

 

In the end, it was quite an interesting time apprehending Max Tresilian.

The man lived on an estate outside of Cardiff, in a brick house in a neighborhood that looked as if, at some point, it had suffered a siege. Jack could remember when the estates were built, and comparing them now with his memory, they fell far short.

He and Gwen went first, hoping the former policewoman would be able to get Tresilian to open up to them. The man who answered the door was, indeed, the person they were looking for, only his drivers' license picture did him a disserve. Max was built like a hardcore biker, wearing a sleeveless t-shirt that had seen better days and torn jeans. Jack would not have been surprised to see him in one of the rougher pubs around.

And, like most people who were large and intimidating, Max seemed quite polite and obliging.

That was, until Gwen mentioned the word 'Torchwood'.

Somehow, Jack ended flat on his back, with an enraged Tresilian quite happily throttling him.

It took the combined efforts of Ianto and Owen – and Tosh, wielding a stun gun to good effect – to get the man off of Jack. While Owen and Gwen subdued him, Ianto helped Jack up, and the captain was quite content to keep ahold of the dragon's warm hand.

Until, of course, they had to wrestle their suspect into the SUV.

"At least I didn't add strangulation to my death repertoire," he tried to joke, but it fell flat with three out of four of his teammates. Gwen snickered, apparently realized that no one else thought it was funny, and tried to hide it under a cough.

The trip back to the Hub was a quiet one. Jack drove, knowing that Ianto and Tosh – in Ianto's car – were following them. A niggling doubt at the back of his mind was trying to tell him that this shouldn't be that simple, that there was something they were missing, that Max Tresilian was only a part of the larger puzzle that Suzie must have set out for them to solve.

Jack wondered if Suzie had known what was going to happen to Tresilian. If he'd been her accomplice, and if she'd dosed him with Retcon after the killings…no, it made the most sense, but Jack was beginning to realize that this couldn't be it. They knew of three of Suzie's victims; she'd started her killings not long before her death; the testing on the glove had begun perhaps three months before that. Had it been enough time to brainwash someone to become a killer? Or had Max already had the inclination to do so? There was so much they didn't know, too many questions that they needed answers to.

Would they get them from Tresilian?

The man had been perfectly amiable until Gwen had mentioned where they were from. Then, Tresilian had tried to kill Jack. Was Torchwood some sort of trigger word Suzie had installed in her victim? But why?

There was a very small part of himself that wanted to wake Suzie up and demand answers. However, Jack would never do that. First of all, Suzie needed to stay at rest. And second, the glove was way too dangerous to let someone use it ever again.

Besides, Owen had been correct: it was too late to even consider resurrecting Suzie. She'd been dead for far too long.

But Jack had to wonder if she'd somehow set all this up in case of her death. Or, if his original premise was right, that Tresilian had broken the Retcon conditioning and was remembering everything, and that writing 'Torchwood' on his victims' wall had to be Tresilian trying to get Suzie's attention.

Until they had further evidence, this theory made the most sense.

"We'll get him into one of the cells," he said, as he pulled into the garage. "Owen, I want every test you can come up with. We need to make sure this is our murderer."

"You got it," Owen said, climbing out of the SUV as soon as Jack had it parked. Together, they wrestled Tresilian's still-stunned body out of the boot of the vehicle, manhandling it down to the cells, where they not-so-gently tossed him inside. "I'll come back down with some needles and we can draw some blood."

"We?" Jack inquired, shutting and locking the door.

"Okay…me." With that admission, Owen headed upstairs to the main Hub, where the others had congregated.

Jack stared at the man in the cell. Max Tresilian was moving slightly, shaking off the effects of the stun gun gradually. He crossed his arms over his chest, clasping his elbows tightly, wondering what had been about this person that had brought him to Suzie's attention. Was there something special about Max Tresilian, something that made him fit her plans? Or was there another reason at play, something that they might not ever know?

Owen made it back down before Tresilian was completely awake, taking a blood sample then exiting the cell once more. He stood next to Jack, staring at their prisoner as he moved sluggishly. "I don't like the way he's coming around."

Jack glanced at Owen, then back at Tresilian. The medic was right; there was something off about his movements. "What are the others up to?"

"Dragon Boy was making coffee, and Tosh and Gwen were doing….something, not sure what."

They continued to watch Tresilian; the man eventually settled onto the floor, his legs folded beneath him, his eyes blank.

"I wonder why he reacted so badly when Gwen said Torchwood – "

Jack's question was brought to a halt as Tresilian reacted violently, launching himself off the floor and crashing into the clear wall, growling and pounding his fists against it.

And, just as suddenly, he stopped, sitting back into the cold stone floor.

"Interesting," Jack commented.

"The spell lasted exactly ten seconds," Ianto's voice came from down the hallway.

Jack turned, and he saw the dragon leaning against the wall, a stopwatch in hand. "Are you always at the ready?" he teased.

"Always, sir," Ianto answered dryly.

"Torchwood," Owen snapped.

And Tresilian gave the same response.

"If this is a drug-induced psychosis," the medic said, "it's a really specific one."

"If this is Retcon-induced or something Suzie programmed in…" Jack sighed. "Let me know what the tests say."

"I want some coffee, too." Owen turned and left, and Jack followed him.

They'd just made their way into the main Hub area when the very distinctive alarm signaling a lockdown echoed through the base, and the lights went off.

 

* * *

 

_**25 November 2007** _

 

 

Ianto had just finished making the next round of coffee when the lockdown alarm sounded, and the lights went out.

Luckily he was prepared; he had a torch under the counter, and with his sharper-than-average eyesight he was able to find it very easily.

"Ianto!'

Jack's shout drew him from the tiny kitchen. He clicked the torch on, heading to where Jack and Owen were standing by the entrance into the lower levels. "Jack," he answered, holding the long silver light just out of the captain's eyes.

"What happened?" Jack snapped, full into leader mode.

Ianto unconsciously straightened. "I have no idea, just that we're in lockdown."

"Then we need to find out a way to reverse it." Jack strode toward Toshiko's terminal, where the technician was trying desperately to get some sort of response from the mainframe. "Anything, Toshiko?"

"Everything's gone," she answered, frustrated. "Computers…mobiles…the lifts…everything. We're sealed in."

"How the hell did we go into lockdown in the first place?" Owen growled.

"It was some sort of override," she answered. "I had a split second's warning before everything went down. It was definitely done from the inside."

"But who would do it?" Gwen asked. She looked a little spooked in the glare from Ianto's torch.

That was a good question. "None of us would," Ianto said, certain of that. There was no reason for it at all.

"Wait a minute," Jack said, eyes widening, "we have a guest!" He turned on his heel, heading back down toward the vaults.

Confused, Ianto followed, knowing that at least Owen was at his back. "That's fucking impossible!" the medic exclaimed.

Ianto had to agree. How could Max Tresilian, locked as he was in a cell, be able to shut down the entire Hub?

They slammed into the corridor outside the cells, coming to a stop in front of Tresilian's cell. The man was sitting on the floor, mumbling to himself.

What the man was saying just added to the dragon's confusion.

"… _stopped for me._

_The carriage held but just ourselves_

_And Immortality_

_Because I could not stop for Death,…"_

"Is that a poem?" Owen asked incredulously.

"Emily Dickinson," Ianto said. Jack nodded his agreement.

"Doesn't seem the type, does he?" Jack asked rhetorically. "Torchwood!" he shouted.

Max didn't respond, which was a surprise to Ianto, remembering the man's reaction to the word back at his home.

Jack was shaking his head. "Look, we know Suzie did something to him, maybe even programmed him to become a killer. Why couldn't she have programmed him to do something else?"

"You mean speak poetry at a random moment?" Owen scoffed.

Ianto looked at Jack, and saw him reach the same conclusion that he did. "Suzie arranged the lockdown," the dragon answered for both of them.

"Oh, come on!" Owen exclaimed. "What the hell would she want with a lockdown after she's been dead for months?"

That was the question. Ianto didn't have the answer, but it fit with the few facts they'd been able to glean. "She must have installed a voice command before she killed herself," he went on.

"Max was just a Trojan Horse," Jack added. "She wanted us to find him, and bring him here. She programmed him to kill and, knowing we'd go after him and bring him her, she implanted a verbal trigger that was lock down the entire Hub. It was all a set-up."

"And I ask again: why?" Owen looked decidedly put out.

The realization was blinding, and Ianto had to be in awe of the massive amount of planning this had taken on Suzie's part. "She wanted us to resurrect her."

 

* * *

 

They'd gathered back at Toshiko's work station. Toshiko was still trying to end the lockdown, but wasn't having any effect. Ianto knew what Suzie was capable of; while she'd never meet Toshiko's level, she really hadn't had to. All she had to do was shut everything down and make it impossible to bring the power back up.

"It makes a horrible sort of sense," Jack said, leaning against the desk. "She gives Max a whole complex of subconscious triggers, using the Retcon to make him tractable."

"Like," Toshiko went on, pounding uselessly on her keyboard, "if Max doesn't see her in so long, the orders kick in, and he follows Suzie's programming."

"And the whole chain of events forces us to bring Suzie back," Jack snarled.

"But her research says she's too far dead to be brought back," Owen argued. "And if even if that wasn't the case, then she would've only lasted a couple of minutes anyway. What's the bloody point?"

"I don't think we'll ever know," Jack answered. "And I'm not about to bring her back to ask." He shot a glare at Gwen, who met it with an embarrassed shrug.

"How was I supposed to know that's what she wanted us to do?" she asked, although she'd lost the belligerent tone she'd had ever since she'd suggested using the glove in the first place.

That started a small argument, which Ianto promptly tuned out. There had to be a way to get a signal out of the Hub; he just had to work it out.

The dragon might have not traveled beyond Ddraig Llyn for centuries, but he'd been well aware of technological advances. He'd been one of the first in the village to get the internet at the inn, mainly to accommodate the few travelers he did get. That had led to much exploration on his part, and he'd been the first in the village to own a mobile. He'd known generally how they worked, but it hadn't been until he and Jack had taken over Torchwood Cardiff that Ianto had actually indulged himself and learned all he could get his hands on about human-kind's hand-held devices.

Ianto had also learned everything he could about Torchwood's mainframe, becoming even more knowledgeable in it than Suzie had been. Jack had teased him that the supercomputer had liked the dragon, and Ianto didn't argue with him about it. He suspected that she did, indeed.

It had been when Toshiko was hired that he'd gone completely nuts, because he'd found someone actually willing to _teach_ him. He'd learned all about signals and satellites and how waves could be bounced around the Earth…

He looked up at the water tower, and smiled.

" – just saying you should actually listen to your teammates every once in a while," Owen was saying, "because we sure as hell know what we're talking about."

"You've all been down here too long," Gwen snapped back. "You've forgotten what it's like to be human."

"I wish," Ianto found himself answering, which caused Toshiko to giggle and Jack to snort playfully.

He didn't look up. He was fairly certain Gwen had just turned her glare on him, not that it mattered. He had better things to worry about.

It took him two minutes, using the small penknife Toshiko had given him as a birthday present two years ago. He unscrewed the back of his mobile, found the internal antenna, and fiddled with it. Then he sealed the phone back up, and tested it.

He then gained their attention by waving the mobile under their collective noses. "I've got reception," he announced, feeling justifiably proud of himself.

That stopped the argument dead in its tracks. "How'd you do that?" Jack asked. "We're sealed off!"

Ianto smirked. "I bounced the signal off the water tower."

The smile that Jack favored him with lit a warmth in his chest that Ianto didn't think would vanish in a long time. "Nice work," he drawled. "So, who do we call?"

"I have an idea," the dragon answered, "but I'm not sure you're going to like it."

Jack stared at him for a moment, and Ianto felt as if he was trying to read his mind. Then he nodded decisively. "Call her."

"Call who?" Gwen demanded.

Ianto didn't answer; instead, he scrolled through his contacts, hitting the one he wanted. The phone on the other end rang twice, before it was answered. _"Swanson."_

"Good evening, Detective," Ianto greeted her.

" _Jones, what a surprise. I was just actually thinking about you."_

"Were you? Should I be flattered?"

She laughed. _"Probably not. What can I do for you?"_

He glanced over at Jack, silently asking him just how much he should say to her. At Jack's nod, he said, "We've managed to track down the killer."

There was silence on the other end, and Ianto was just beginning to think the call might have dropped when Swanson said, _"I honestly didn't think you'd tell me when you did."_

"I'm glad I could surprise you."

" _You did. Who is he?"_

"A man named Max Tresilian. He was in Pilgrim, that group I had Davidson tell you about."

" _Yeah, we got a report on him. What made you think it was him?"_

"I'll be more than glad to explain that to you, however there's a problem and I'd like to get your help."

Another round of silence greeted his statement. _"And how can I help the high-and-mighty Torchwood?"_

Ianto took a deep breath. He knew he couldn't tell her about Suzie, and how she programmed Tresilian into being her willing killer. And yet, he wanted to keep it close enough to the truth so that Swanson wouldn't call him on anything he was about to tell her. "It turns out that you were right: the murders did have something to do with Torchwood, only in that an enemy of ours recruited Tresilian to do it and to draw us out in the open. When we caught up with Tresilian, we found out he was programmed to get into our base and to lock us down. We're tapped inside."

" _You've got to be shitting me,"_ Swanson exclaimed.

"I wish I was, believe me."

" _Well, this is certainly a day of surprises. I can't believe you're actually admitting that the killings were indeed linked to you, however peripherally. You're gonna owe me for this, Jones."_

Ianto grinned. "I'll take you out to dinner."

Wait…did Jack just look _jealous_?

He was brought back to matters at hand by Swanson's delighted laughter. _"You're on. But I want that fancy Italian place near the Center. I have a craving for bruschetta with tomato and olive oil."_

"All right, you're on."

" _Okay…so, what can I do for you, Jones?"_

"I'll need you to look up Emily Dickinson. The lockdown code is somehow tied into her poetry."

The sound of keys clacking came over the connection. _"Thank God for Google,"_ she said. _"Am I looking for any particular poem?"_

"Find 'I Could Not Stop for Death," Ianto instructed. "That's the poem that caused the lockdown in the first place."

" _Got it."_

"Could you read me out the next verse?"

" _Sure. But what if this doesn't work?"_

"Then it looks like you'll really earn that Italian dinner."

" _Only for you, Jones. Only for you…"_

They ended up going through several poems, Swanson commenting that Dickinson was a "bloody bundle of laughs." Ianto had to agree, the poet seemed to have been obsessed with dark themes, and he couldn't tell if he was getting depressed because the lack of success, or because the poetry was bringing down his mood.

Ianto was just about to ask for another line when Toshiko waved her hand to get his attention. "Wait, this isn't working. Maybe if words caused the lockdown, numbers could reverse it…I need the ISBN number for the original book."

"Did you hear that?" Ianto asked Swanson.

" _Yeah, I did."_ More keyboard clacking accompanied what must have been yet another internet search. " _Christ, do you have any idea how many editions of Emily Dickinson there are out there?"_

"How are you going to input it?" Owen asked. "The keyboard's not working."

"No," Toshiko answered, "but the membrane underneath might pick up the code and mainframe might recognize it."

" _Is there any way to narrow down to what edition you need?"_ Swanson asked. _"There are over 1,800 hits on Amazon alone."_

Ianto repeated what Swanson said, and jumped when Jack slapped his own forehead. "Oh, I'm an idiot. Try _The Complete Poems_."

A few seconds later, Swanson said, _"Yeah, that narrowed it down. Try this…"_ She rattled off a number, and Ianto repeated it back to Toshiko…and nothing happened.

"Is there another one?" he asked.

" _Um…yeah. How about…"_ She gave him another…

And that one worked.

"That did it," Ianto said, grinning. "You more than earned that dinner, Detective."

" _Glad I could help."_ He could tell she was smiling as well.

"Thank you."

" _AS I said before…only for you, Jones. You're the best of them all, and a friend besides. Now, I need to take my exhausted arse home. Call me to arrange that dinner."_

"I shall. Good night, Kathy."

" _See ya, Ianto."_

He flipped his mobile closed, sighing. She had the right idea; the dragon was tired, from the excitement of the day and the lack of sleep last night.

"Owen," Jack said, "We need to sedate Max Tresilian so he doesn't trigger another lockdown. Toshiko, go through every bit of code you can and find out whatever Suzie did and fix it. Gwen, go home to Rhys, and tell him what a wonderful boyfriend he is. Ianto, I want to talk to you in my office." With that, Jack turned and headed into said office, leaving Ianto with the distinct impression that the captain wasn't happy about what he'd promised Detective Swanson in order to get her help.

 

* * *

 

_**25 November 2007** _

 

 

Jack couldn't believe he was jealous.

He'd always prided himself on his 51st century upbringing, and how open-minded he was about certain things. Of course, there were lines he wouldn't – and couldn't – cross, but jealousy was something he just didn't do.

And yet, when Ianto had told Swanson he was going to take her out to dinner, he just couldn't stop himself from feeling that way.

But, in the end Swanson had been able to help, and to be honest he couldn't begrudge her getting a little something for her trouble. After all, Jack was well aware of her opinion toward Torchwood, and it was only her friendship with Ianto that had most likely kept her from refusing to help and hanging up. Intellectually, he knew that the dragon and the detective were simply good friends; Ianto had also made it clear that the only reason he hadn't trusted Swanson with his secret was that he didn't want to cause a split in her loyalties.

He shouldn't be jealous.

But he was.

The dream he'd had was making it worse, Jack realized. That dream had given him a glimpse of what it might be like to have that sort of committed relationship, and Jack was finding that he did, indeed, want just that thing. Forget the Doctor; forget his own search for the reason of his immortality. If Jack was going to live forever, then he wanted Ianto to be at his side.

He strode into his office, leaning against the edge of his desk. He motioned to Ianto to shut the door behind him, which the dragon did, then he took the seat opposite Jack. "Yes, Jack?" he asked softly.

Jack looked at his Second closely. Ianto seemed completely unruffled, but there was a glint in his blue eyes that hinted that he might just be aware of how Jack was feeling. Had he been that transparent? He hadn't meant to be…

"I'll need you to call Helen out at Flat Holm first thing in the morning," he said, deciding to get right down to business. "I think it's safe enough to transport Max Tresilian out there; there's nothing to trigger him, and I'm hoping that, someday, we might be able to rehabilitate him."

Ianto nodded. "That makes sense. I'll do it as soon as I get in. You realize though that Gwen is going to want to know what happened to him."

He sighed. "You know, I really wish her stubbornness could be pointed somewhere else, and not at me." Jack was really getting tired of the woman's attitude, and it hadn't escaped his notice that she hadn't actually admitted that she'd been wrong about the glove.

"On the other hand," Ianto said, "she's picking up on the training pretty well. There are still some things she's not understanding, but I think she'll make a passable field agent. I just think that her being a liaison isn't in Torchwood's best interests. And no, I'm not just saying that because I like the job so well, although I do. If I honestly thought she could do it, then I'd agree to training her. But she's far too pushy and belligerent with her own teammates when she doesn't get her way; can you imagine her pulling that sort of attitude with Colonel Mace? Or better yet, Brigadier General Lethbridge-Stewart?"

That idea made Jack snort. Alistair would cut her off at the knees so fast she wouldn't even be aware of her lack of legs until she'd hit the ground. "Yeah, and I don't even want to get on the Queen's bad side, either."

Ianto flinched. "I'm quite fond of Her Majesty. I'd rather not make her angry."

"And she's quite fond of you. Should I be jealous?"

It was a question Jack had asked before, but today it sounded off, because he had, in fact, been jealous of the idea of Ianto having dinner with Swanson.

And what was worse, Ianto knew about it.

The dragon simply looked up at him, understanding in his old eyes. "No Jack," he answered quietly. "You don't need to be jealous."

The relief that slammed through him almost made his heart stop. He gave his Second a small, almost shy smile. "Good, I'm glad to hear it." He cleared his throat. "I do really wish I knew what Suzie's motivation was in all of this. She had to know we couldn't resurrect her with the glove, since she's the one who studied the blasted thing in the first place. Unless there was something she knew about it that we don't."

Jack couldn't help but feel that the murders and the damage that had been done to Tresilian was his fault. Suzie had been the one he'd kept from when he and Ianto had taken over Torchwood Three; she'd been one of Yvonne's hand-picked recruits, after all. But he'd seen something in her, even though Ianto hadn't trusted her, and he'd kept her on. And, for nearly seven years, Suzie had been a brilliant employee.

"Stop feeling guilty," Ianto snapped, leaning forward and putting his hand on Jack's knee. "There was absolutely nothing in Suzie's behavior to clue anyone in on what she was up to. And no, we'll never know what her complete plan was, although I'm quite certain she thought we'd at least try to use the glove on her. She had her motivation, and unfortunately it's not something she shared anywhere. But," he mused, leaning back in his chair, and Jack missed the comfort his touch had brought, "how did you know about the book? Or was it some sort of thing you pulled out of your proverbial hat?"

"Actually, I saw it in Suzie's belongings. It just made sense that it was what she'd used to program her little trap. But, with the Hub on lockdown, there was no way to get to it again. Oh, and it was a very good idea to call Swanson, although I suspect if it had been me calling I would have gotten laughed at. And yes, I know that I treat most coppers with not a lot of respect, but you know why I do it: if I can save one life by keeping them out of danger, then pissing them off is worth it."

"And I get to unruffle the feathers you ruffle," Ianto chuckled.

"That's why you're the best person for the liaison job. I'm only sorry I didn't see it before. Here I was, trying to make things easier for you, and instead I insult you."

"It's all water under the bridge, Jack. We're fine now." Ianto's eyes narrowed, and Jack could swear he saw something smoldering there. "You know," he said, "I still have that stopwatch."

Jack stared at him, confused by the sudden change of subject. "So?"

"Well, think about it." Ianto's lips curled up suggestively. "There's lots of things you can do with a stopwatch."

Wait a second…was Ianto _propositioning_ him?

Oh goddess, he _was_ ….

Jack couldn't help by shiver. Before it had been him initiating; to have Ianto do it, was an incredible turn on. Yet, he decided to play along instead of jumping his Second there and then. "Oh yeah," he said seductively. "I can think of a few." Even though his mind had gone completely blank.

"There's quite a list," the dragon said playfully.

In that moment, Jack knew he had to make a decision. If he encouraged Ianto to stay, there would be no turning back; their relationship would become all-too real. Jack knew exactly how he felt about the dragon, and he also knew that his own heart wouldn't let him go back to the on-again off-again office fling they'd once had, before Jack had broken Ianto's trust in him. Whatever happened tonight would dictate his own actions in years – in millennia – to come. It was daunting.

But it was also what Jack wanted more than anything.

"I'll send Owen and Toshiko home," he said. "Give me ten minutes."

Ianto shifted slightly, pulling the old stopwatch from his jacket pocket. He clicked the button on the top. "That's ten minutes….and counting."

The smile on the dragon's face was positively radiant.

It had taken Jack a little longer than he'd thought to chivvy Toshiko out of the Hub. She complained about needing to finish removing Suzie's tampering from mainframe, but Jack had finally put his foot down and told her it could wait until the morning, with Tresilian sedated there would be no more booby traps tripped. That had mollified her somewhat, and the captain had shooed her out the cog door as quickly as he could.

As he bounded back into his office, Jack saw that Ianto was standing in front of the desk, his jacket lying across the chair and the stopwatch in hand. As soon as Jack crossed the threshold, the dragon clicked the button once more, glancing at the watch's face. "Hm…nine minutes and forty-seven seconds," he said. "I really didn't think you were going to get Tosh out of here, although of course Owen was quick to leave."

Seeing him there, Jack knew he didn't want to play any games. He stalked forward, snatching the stopwatch from Ianto's hand and flinging it away. He barely registered the tinkle of broken glass as he pulled the dragon flush against him. "Forget the stopwatch," he growled. "I want you inside me."

Ianto's eyes widened, the blue darkening almost to indigo. "If that's what you want," he answered, his voice lowering almost an octave.

In answer, Jack kissed him,

It wasn't a pretty kiss, nor was it perfect. But it held every bit of the desire and need and want that Jack had been feeling lately, intensified by the mating dream he'd had. It was all tongues and teeth and lips sliding across lips and the gloriousness of passion finally unleashed.

Jack lost himself in the closeness, his hands tugging Ianto even impossibly nearer, so close he could feel the dragon's heat through his clothes and the beating of that strong heart against his chest. Hands roamed where they would, and by the time they'd had to break for air, Ianto stood bare-chested and Jack's braces and belt had somehow ended up on the chair with Ianto's jacket.

"Down to your bunker," Ianto ordered, his voice hoarse.

Jack hastened to obey.

He had barely made it down the ladder before Ianto had joined him, pushing him down onto the camp bed face-first. Jack managed to turn over before the dragon was on top of him, straddling his thighs and practically yanking Jack's shirts over his head. Ianto's eyes had changed into their dragon aspect, shining in the light coming from the manhole over their heads.

Ianto practically attacked the skin of Jack's neck, and he arched into the questing mouth as the dragon licked and bit down the corded muscle and then down his chest, nipping and sucking on Jack's nipples, and the captain moaned under the assault. He could feel Ianto's erection pressing into his own through their trousers, and Jack ground into him, desperately wanting the friction.

Jack was quickly losing himself in sensation. The times that they'd had sex before, he'd been the one to initiate it, and Ianto had followed his lead. Now, the dragon was taking control, and it was driving Jack so wild he knew he wouldn't last too much longer.

"Need you," he gasped, his fingers twisting in Ianto's hair.

Hands were at his fly, and Jack lifted his hips so Ianto could remove his trousers. In seconds they were both completely naked, and the dragon was moving toward Jack's hard cock.

Jack nearly screamed when Ianto's mouth encircled his penis.

The dragon's internal heat was somewhat higher than a human's, and Jack felt as if he was being engulfed in steam. It was the most incredible thing he could ever remember feeling, and he tried to thrust up into Ianto's mouth, but his lover held him down, taking his enjoyment in giving Jack one of the most amazing blowjobs he'd ever had.

The heat of orgasm was rising, and Jack had to forcefully pull Ianto away from his aching cock. "If you don't stop I won't last," he panted. "Lube's in the drawer."

Ianto nodded. He fetched the lube, and Jack spread himself open for the dragon to prepare. The coolness of the lube contrasted against the heat of Ianto's tongue, which kept up light ministrations on Jack's cock. A finger breached him, and then two; by the third one Jack was babbling incoherently, the fire rising within him and begging to be set free.

He did scream then, when Ianto's own penis thrust into him.

The heat within him demanded release. Jack met every one of Ianto's thrusts with one of his own, falling into a rhythm that brought such intense pleasure he felt as if he was literally going to explode with it. He met Ianto's eyes; he could tell they were still in dragon-aspect, even though the pupils were so blown they were almost completely round.

And then, Ianto began to sing.

Jack felt himself spiraling upward with the song, even though he couldn't understand the words. The bunker was filled with the indescribable music, and it seemed to penetrate deeply into his very soul as his orgasm blasted through him, matching Ianto's own as the dragon flung his head back, the song reaching a crescendo as well.

The intensity of it caused Jack's vision to white out; he felt Ianto collapse half on top of him, the overheated skin of his lover almost blistering, yet Jack reveled in it. He blinked, and the ceiling of the bunker appeared. He turned his head toward his lover, and saw Ianto looking back at him, his eyes still in their dragon shape.

Jack thought he looked incredibly beautiful and otherworldly.

"I love you," he said almost soundlessly.

The look on Ianto's face was incandescent. "I love you too."

Jack leaned over slightly, catching Ianto's lips in a kiss that was nothing like the passionate one they'd shared upstairs. This one was full of promise.

Jack had made his decision.

And his decision was Ianto Jones.


End file.
